Heavy winds blew across the horizon. A loud song of thunder immediately followed. The sky suddenly took a darker shade. Harold glanced at the warden's opened window. "Did you hear of any storm?" he questioned, directing the inquiry to Mark. The young cop shook his head, while Warden Protacio shifted from his chair and crushed his fifth cigar. He peered at both men and murmured, "It will pass."

Harold shrugged his shoulders as he exchanged an amused look with Mark. Their warden could often be complacent. "Shouldn't you at least, give some, I don't know, command or something?" the veteran guard suggested.

"What the fuck are you blabbering about?" the warden asked after he grabbed another stick of cigar, clearly annoyed by the worry his two guards exuded. Harold snorted and answered, "Never mind."

When the warden finally lit his sixth cigar, smoke immediately swirled around his small office, sending Mark into a coughing fit. "Sit near the window if you can't stand it," the warden suggested. The young one must learn to tolerate the smoke because he was far from putting a stop to his cancer sticks.

His demeanor greatly annoyed Harold and he was close to lashing out at the warden, but the veteran guard knew better. He had no intention to challenge Protacio against the man's incessant need to smoke. After all, it was his lungs, not his. But damn the man for second-hand smoke. After a shake of his head, the veteran guard grabbed the next letter from Mark's hand and then started to read.

***

Dear Maria,

How are you? I miss you. It had been a while. Happy anniversary. Yes, my love, I have deemed the day of my sentencing as our anniversary. I hope everything is going well with the kids. How about you? Are you well? Are you happy? Did you manage to find a good place to settle in?

Me? I'm fine. There were days when I felt like giving up on life, but not enough to truly end it. Perhaps, I got used to an existence that could only survive in the shadows. You don't have to worry about me. I'm okay...I'm okay.

Well, where should I start? I know, how about imagining me doing laundry? I bet you can't. How could you...you don't even...Oh never mind. Well like I said, I'm doing laundry now. It's my new post.

Why?

It's because of an incident here. Some wacko guard decided to let a crazy rapist deliver laundry inside an inmate's cell. The guy in it was probably in his early twenties. Should I go into detail? Would you be comfortable with that Maria?

Is it okay?

I'd presume that it is okay, so I'll go ahead. The guy was a looker, I guess the rapist found him tempting. So he raped the poor guy. He was screaming for help as that monster shoved his thing behind him. It was awful Maria. It reminded me of Monique. You do remember Monique, don't you, and the incident that happened with the two of you?

It could have been you, thank God it wasn't you. When I heard the news, I ran outside my house without a shirt on. It was windy and raining that day. I'm sure you can still remember it. It was freezing but I couldn't care less. My heart felt like it wanted to jump. It kept screaming within my chest, begging me to search for you.

To save you.

But what could a ten-year-old do Maria? I knew there was none. But I didn't give up. I couldn't give up. They said you and Monique were playing under the rain when that man crept up and pulled one of you away. Initially, they weren't sure which child was taken. But their first guess was it was you. A lot of them speculated and yelled that Maria was probably taken.

Maria, beneath me, was a knee-deep stretch of rainwater. The wind blew a chilly breeze that day and the increasing rivulets of rain pelted on the ground with a monstrous sound. It was a scary scene but that didn't deter me. I ran from one house to another, knocking on their door and begging them for help. My heart and mind were a wreck. I felt like there was no ground beneath my feet despite the ever-present flood. After my frantic display, some people came and offered help but I was instructed to remain inside my house.

I waited on the front porch unable to do anything. Did you know Maria, that day was my birthday? I received a few gifts from my father's co-workers. But the greatest gift I could ever receive came when a car pulled over in front of the pooling crowd near my house. The man said Maria got away, but Monique was taken. I knew it was a million sorts of wrong to be happy, but Maria, I was happy. Not because someone else was taken, but because you were safe. You were safe.

***

The warden held his hand up to signal Harold to stop. So he did.

"What are you looking at Melinda?" The warden scoffed. Mark and Harold turned to face the woman who had the office door ajar with her head peeking in.

"I... I'm sorry sir. I got curious." She answered.

"Well keep your curiosity to yourself and get us some coffee and maybe some cornflakes." warden Protacio commanded.

The two guards inside the office could only smirk and shake their heads. The warden and his weird taste for snacks had become a silent joke within the guard's community.

It took a while for Protacio to give his command, too long for Harold's liking. "Should I continue?" he questioned, irritated, his voice coming out raspy like his entire oesophagus married the Sahara. It had been a while since he read something out loud, and good lord, what the warden had them doing was worse than separating inmates in a brawl.

Protacio ignored him and stared outside. The weather had taken a more foreboding intention, but he decided to continue ignoring it. He let a minute of silence hang over them as he gazed at the raindrops that pelted against the window sill. Images of 247 and that one day when Protacio was ignoring a phone ringing inside his pocket made him once more question the man's morality.

A groan from Harold finally stopped his musings. He gave the man permission to continue reading the letter with a curt nod.

***

(Letter continuation)

Maria? It's Christmas. I hope you're celebrating with your kids. This time, I know you will have an opportunity to eat that turkey, and I'm certain it is well appreciated.

Me? Well, the inmates and I are celebrating by singing a Christmas Carol within our cells. It's okay Maria. I'm happy, I feel no pain or longing as long as you're okay.

I remember when we had our Christmas party at school. Do you remember it, Maria? That day, you were so angry. You didn't receive the exchange gift that you wanted. Oh, Maria, it was a random pick!

But I guess receiving a bunch of handkerchiefs and a picture frame was less amusing than the perfume you were aiming for.

Maria, do you remember the chocolates; the ones given to you by our teacher? Yes, that box Maria, had five curly tops and six-packs of nips. That was all I could afford.

That was my Christmas present to you. But of course, I decided to write the name anonymous on it. I was scared you'd refuse a gift from someone as ugly as I was nothing but a moth. A far cry from the colorful butterflies you loved so much.

But you know Maria, I was so happy, despite not receiving recognition for the gift I gave you because you were happy. There were no more tears in your eyes when you opened my present and that was all that mattered. The handkerchief you got; you saw it in a different light. Funny how certain things could change our perspective about something, right?

I would love to think that my gift caused that light. But then again, maybe not.

I have to end my letter now. I will talk to you again next year.

I'm okay Maria... I'm okay

Love forever
Your Silent Knight

***

"Well, that was short," the warden murmured.

Harold angrily threw the paper in front of him and scoffed, "I don't see the need for this, it's bull." He stood from his chair and walked towards the warden, gazing at the old man with predatory eyes but didn't utter another word.

Warden Protacio glared back at his employee and snickered as he said, "Hold your horses, Harold. We're at that age where a heart attack can happen any minute."

"Well warden, after you." the guard retorted.

In a corner, Mark panicked when he saw the beginnings of a frown on their warden's forehead. So, he took the next letter and began to read, hoping to end the tension that was brewing between his seniors.