“Where is he?”
“Alive.”
“Where?”
“I cannot tell you that without his consent.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“Still protecting him from me?”
“Protecting the life he has now.”
That sentence landed differently.
Ethan sat again.
“Does he know I’m alive?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know we thought he was dead?”
The man hesitated.
“Yes.”
Pain moved through Ethan so cleanly it almost felt like anger.
“Then why didn’t he contact us?”
The legal officer reached into the back of the folder.
“He tried once.”
She removed a sealed envelope.
Ethan’s name was written on the front.
Not typed.
Written by hand.
He knew the handwriting.
He sat perfectly still.
“When?”
“Two years ago. The message was withheld because contact authorization was denied. It was added to this review when counsel challenged that decision.”
Ethan looked at the suited man.
“You kept this too?”
“Yes.”
The man’s voice was quieter now.
