A Debt Beyond Three Years

Synopsis

The day I walked out of prison, Caelum City was hit by a rare winter rain, icy, bone-chilling, and relentless. Waiting for me at the gates was Nikolas Zorion, my husband of five years. He stood beneath the lone sycamore outside the prison, a black umbrella shielding him from the downpour. His posture was ramrod straight. The rain blurred his features, but it couldn't obscure the innate distance and aristocratic grace that clung to him. When he saw me, he stubbed out his cigarette and walked over. "Cordelia," he called my name, his voice hoarse, softer than I'd ever heard before. "Let's go home." I didn't move. I just stood there, quietly watching him. Three years ago, right here, it was also Nikolas who had said to me, "Cordelia, Wilhelmina didn't mean it. She has depression and can't have a criminal record. Help her this once, and I promise I'll come pick you up myself in three years."