Tony stopped at the large windows. His back toward her, he seemed to be absorbing the view, taking in the mountains and sunlit sky. Silently she waited and watched. Eventually his shoulders squared, and with his back still toward her, she heard his restrained voice, “I was. I admit I was... stunned. Governor Preston informed me of your release two weeks after it occurred.” He emphasized the two weeks. “I was angry at everyone, at you for being pardoned, at Jane Allyson for presenting the petition, at Governor Bosley for signing it. Hell, I was even mad at the clerk that filed it.” He turned toward her. She knew those black eyes. He may have restrained his voice, but his true emotion shone like beacons through his intense gaze. Refusing to look away, Claire met his stare with her own intensity. He went on, “I finally figured out, the person I was the most upset with, was me. For the first time in years, yes more than three -- you know that now-- I’d lost track of you.” His volume increased, “My god, you were gone!”

There were so many things churning in her brain Claire couldn’t speak. There were statements, accusations, and questions. None would make themselves known. She just watched, knowing she’d done what she’d subconsciously wanted. She’d pushed him to the brink. Tony lingered on the precipice; a slight breeze could push him into a complete meltdown.

Her heart beat rapidly, as he walked toward her. There was no violence. His tone and eyes mellowed. He resumed his seat. “Damn it, Claire. Nothing has been the same without you. The house is just a big empty hole.”

She exhaled and asked, “Tell me why?”

He looked puzzled, “Why is it empty? Because you are not there.”

“No, Tony. Why did you do it to me? Why’d you set me up, worse -- arrange my entire life to look as though I was after your money, setting you up for the kill? You know I continually told you, I didn’t care about the money. But everything from the beginning was manipulated to make me look guilty. Now you say you loved me. You don’t do that to someone you love. Tell me why you did it.”

“It isn’t past tense, Claire. I still love you. And I thought you knew why.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“What was in the box, you said you received? What information did you think I revealed?”

She didn’t have time to filter her answers, the words came tumbling out. “There were pictures, articles, and a letter. It all explained that your birth name was Anton Rawls, you changed it after the death of your grandfather and parents.” As the words flowed, she realized the thing she’d been missing. She didn’t say grandparents and parents. What happened to Tony’s grandmother? Could she still be alive? She would be very old. Maybe, she sent Claire the information? Or maybe, she was behind this vendetta. Would it lessen the sting if Claire learned it wasn’t all Tony’s doing?

“Was it handwritten? Where is it? I’d like to see it.”

“Yes, the note was handwritten. I thought it looked like your writing. It wasn’t signed, but you never signed anything.” It was Claire’s turn to look down. “You can’t see it,” She exhaled, “I burned it.”

She heard him laugh, “You what?”

Looking up, squaring her shoulders, she repeated, “I burned it, all of it. I took it to the incinerator at the prison and watched it burn.”

He stared for a moment and exclaimed, “You are serious. You have no proof of anything you just said? You burned it.” His shoulders relaxed. The tension that glued his muscles together, dissipated before her eyes. He continued, “I don’t know who sent it to you. I did confirm, today, that you received a box in October of last year. The prison said the return address was Emily’s.”

Claire nodded. “Yes, I assumed it was books or something.”

He exhaled again, “Burned it. Why?”

“I’ve asked myself that same question a thousand times. I believe it was a cleansing of sorts, my way of removing you from my life.”

Tony smirked, “How is that working for you?”

The tension in the room disintegrated, like the ashes of her information. She couldn’t help but grin. “Not as well as I’d hoped.” Claire glanced at a clock, 11:16. “I really do need to get ready for my lunch date.” There was no reason to emphasize the last word, but she did. “If we’re done, I’d like you to leave.” Her voice no longer held the urgency from before. While the ability to direct his movements empowered her, the memory of destroying the evidence subdued her.

“I would like to ask you one more thing?” She nodded; her strength to fight him was waning. “Who was the expected recipient of that dazzling smile?”

Claire’s mind spun. What smile? “What are you talking about?”

“When you first opened the door, your smile was earth shaking. Who were you expecting?”

“A good friend.”

Tony raised his eyebrows, but Claire didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. She’d answered his question, the first time he asked. She didn’t owe him anymore. Truthfully, she no longer owed him that.

Claire stood, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the door.”

Tony stood, “I will not give-up my quest.” Though his tone was friendly, his words were both a promise and a threat; they both knew it.

The living room and hall continued to stretch making the walk to the door endless. Finally they reached her destination.