Vanessa’s Point of View

The taxi stopped in front of the tall gray walls of the state prison. I paid the driver and stepped onto the cracked pavement, pulling my coat tighter against the wind.

It had taken weeks of digging through old contacts, paying private investigators, and making quiet threats to find him, but I always get what I’m looking for. No one can hide from me forever.

I walked through the metal detectors and signed the visitor log with a practiced smile. The guards ...