Damien received a letter.
Not from an enemy.
From a friend.
From one of the cartel bosses.
Asking for forgiveness.
And Damien had to decide whether to give it.
---
The letter arrived on a Tuesday.
Plain envelope. No return address. Prison stamp.
Damien almost threw it away.
But something made him open it.
Dear Mr. Moreau,
You don't know me. But I know you. I know what you've done for my family. For the people I hurt. For the lives I destroyed.
My name is Carlos Castillo. I am one of the men you sent to death row.
I'm not writing to ask you to save me. I'm writing to thank you.
You showed me that I was wrong. About power. About control. About life.
I spent decades thinking that fear was the only way. That violence was the only language. That mercy was weakness.
You showed me different.
I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I'm asking for something else.
I'm asking you to tell my family that I'm sorry.
My wife. My children. My mother.
They don't know what I did. They think I was a businessman. A provider. A good man.
I wasn't.
But I want them to remember me as someone who tried to be better at the end.
Thank you for showing me that it's possible.
Carlos Castillo
---
Damien read the letter three times.
His face was calm.
But his hands were shaking.
Christabel walked into the room.
"What is it?"
"A letter."
"From who?"
"Castillo."
"One of the cartel bosses?"
"Yes."
"What does it say?"
He handed it to her.
She read it.
Her eyes were wet.
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
"He's asking for forgiveness."
"He's asking me to talk to his family."
"Are you going to do it?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
Lena was full of questions.
"Mama, why is Papa sad?"
"He got a letter."
"From who?"
"From someone who hurt people."
"Did he say sorry?"
"Yes."
"Then why is Papa sad?"
Christabel was quiet for a moment.
"Because sorry isn't always enough."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's asleep?"
"She's dreaming."
"Of what?"
"Of you."
He walked to her.
Took her hand.
"I'm going to visit him."
"Castillo?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he asked."
"You don't owe him anything."
"I know."
"Then why?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"Because he's trying to be better."
---
The visit was arranged for Friday.
Damien went alone.
No guards. No lawyers. No Christabel.
Just him.
The prison was cold. Gray. Silent.
Castillo was waiting in the visiting room.
He looked different. Thinner. Older. His eyes were tired.
"Mr. Moreau."
"Castillo."
"Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for writing."
---
They sat across from each other.
A glass partition between them.
"I don't expect you to forgive me," Castillo said.
"I don't."
"I know."
"Then why am I here?"
Castillo was quiet for a moment.
"Because you want to understand."
"Understand what?"
"Why I did what I did."
Damien leaned forward.
"Why did you do it?"
Castillo looked at his hands.
"Because I was scared."
"Of what?"
"Of being poor. Of being nobody. Of being forgotten."
"So you became a monster."
"I became what I thought I had to be."
"You were wrong."
"I know. Now."
---
Damien was quiet for a moment.
"Your family."
Castillo's eyes filled with tears.
"My wife. My children. My mother."
"What do you want me to tell them?"
"The truth."
"All of it?"
"All of it."
"They'll hate you."
"I know."
"They'll never forgive you."
"I know."
"Then why?"
Castillo looked at him.
"Because they deserve to know who I really was. Not the man I pretended to be. The man I actually was."
---
Damien stood.
"I'll tell them."
Castillo stood.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me."
"Then what do I do?"
Damien looked at him.
"Die with dignity."
---
The visit to Castillo's family was harder than Damien expected.
His wife was named Elena. Not the same Elena. Different Elena.
She was beautiful. Kind. Trusting.
She had no idea.
"Mr. Moreau, thank you for coming."
"Thank you for seeing me."
"Is Carlos okay?"
Damien was quiet for a moment.
"No."
---
He told her everything.
The drugs. The money. The murders.
The cartel. The recruitment. The destruction.
Elena listened.
She didn't interrupt.
She didn't cry.
When he was done, she was silent for a long time.
"My husband is a monster."
"He was."
"Was?"
"He's trying to be better."
"Can a monster be better?"
Damien was quiet for a moment.
"Sometimes."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
Lena was full of questions.
"Mama, why is Papa tired?"
"Because he did something hard."
"What did he do?"
"He told someone the truth."
"Was the truth sad?"
"Yes."
"Then why did he tell it?"
Christabel smiled.
"Because the truth is always better than a lie."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's asleep?"
"She's dreaming."
"Of what?"
"Of you."
He walked to her.
Took her hand.
"I told his family the truth."
"I know."
"His wife cried."
"I know."
"His children will never forgive him."
"I know."
"Did I do the right thing?"
She looked at him.
"You did the honest thing
First Line of Chapter 175 (Teaser):
"The one hundred thirtieth week, the cartel bosses were executed. Not publicly. Privately. And Damien watched. Not because he wanted to. Because he needed to see it through."