E P I L O G U E

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THREE YEARS LATER

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THREE YEARS LATER

The sound of thick platforms falling against the smooth marble flooring reverberated around the uncrowded lobby, steps unfaltering yet slick with anxiety.

Tahlia Meyers had to remind herself to breathe every few seconds, lest her restless heart should explode. She'd almost forgotten the man in the uniform who tailed right behind her, he was supposed to guide her but it felt like she was the one leading the way.
Turning a corner by a certain marble bust, like the officer at the desk had told her, she found herself face to face with a large full-length glass panel in the wall.

Truth be told, she was expecting something more traditional like one of those common visiting rooms where the prisoner and the visitor sit across from each other and talk about mundane things like it was just another day in the life.

She'd almost forgotten she was in a maximum security penitentiary.

As she came to stand right in front of the glass, the first thing her eyes saw was the vague reflection of her own self in the murky surface, a pair of lukewarm eyes and a countenance that had daunted written all over it.

But as she looked past it, eyes focussing beyond the reinforced glass, her own reflection disappeared into a dark figure sitting on a bench all the way at the end of the room. Both hands by his side on the bench, his head drooped low, gaze fixated on the floor.

She made no sound as she continued to gauge the man, wondering for a second if she made the right decision coming to see him.

The intensity of her stare must have travelled in wavelengths across the room, for soon; he looked up.

Blue, that's all she saw, as his eyes connected with hers for the first time in three years. His irises spread, as he continued to look into her, arrested by the moment. He rose up, scorching gaze never leaving hers, as he slowly ambled towards the glass.

There was a minute of stunning silence impregnating the space between them, before he tilted his head to the side,

"1091 days."

Tahlia was caught off guard by the sound of his voice. It was forever etched into her brain, yet the real thing took her by surprise almost instantly.

He leaned closer into the glass, whispering, "One thousand and ninety one days."

"Hello Lo—" She cut herself off immediately, recalling that wasn't his name. Blinking, she corrected herself, forcing a still-foreign name out of her mouth, "Hello Kyle."

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