The rumble of warden Protacio's stomach led the group of men to stop in front of a highway restaurant, five hours away from San Ignacio.

The 24-hour diner is a local stopover for truck drivers and commuters alike. Despite the isolation of the small restaurant, its food and the small Inn standing beside it-made the place ideal for a quick rest.

The group of men entered the vicinity with haste. Protacio, being the eager one, was at the forefront. The old warden did not fail to express his hunger due to the recent events at San Fernando Correctional. His complaint elicited a short chuckle from his companions, but it did not offend the old man. Food is life, that's what his deceased wife used to say.

When the group was seated at a corner table, Protacio pulled out a letter from his pocket.

"I can't believe you brought that here," Maximillian commented when the warden laid the letter on the table.

"You tend to meddle in people's lives, don't you?" the senator added while shaking his head.

Protacio didn't take offense. Yes, he did have that trait imprinted deep within him. It was a problem that he never learned to control. Matter of fact, it paved the way for a bunch of fights during his teenage life. But he could never bring himself to change. Maybe, it was that part of him that made him love the prison so much. It gave him the liberty to talk and pry on the prisoner's life. People may deem it offensive, but Protacio only stuck his nose in a person's matter, when he felt like he could help, or change them.

"I know, " Protacio whispered as he positioned the letter in front of his face.

"You can read it, but keep your voice down," Maximillian warned before the warden could begin reading.

Nathaniel smiled while watching the two senior men in front of him, exchange words with each other. To think, a couple of hours ago, the warden who had been beaten and bruised by thugs is the same man who is now sitting across from him, reading a letter that seemed to have made an impact in his old heart.

"Hey warden, blood is oozing from the gauze on your arm." Sheldon suddenly screamed, eliciting a few glances their way.

Warden Protacio raised his hand and noticed that the wound had indeed bled out of the gauze. He refused to be taken to the hospital when the paramedics patched him up before leaving San Fernando because he hated the hospital. Ever since his wife died, he found himself imagining her image in every hospital that came his way. There was no way, he would ever set foot inside a hospital, not unless he was on the brink of death.

"I'll clean it in the restroom, " the warden murmured. He left the group of men and headed towards the Inn beside the restaurant to ask for a first aid kit.

"Shall we continue reading without him?" Maximillian asked when Sheldon took the letter from where Protacio left it.

"He might cry, but I want to know what happened," Sheldon replied. The joke lingered in the air for a few seconds, before they let out a collective chuckle. Not long after, Sheldon began to read the letter.
***

Dear Maria,

How are things with your family? I hope everything is running smoothly as I have prayed for your life to be.

Today, I received a new batch of white paper and pens. It was a gift given by the warden. I don't understand why he ceased asking about my case or the fact that he is acting a lot kinder to me. I couldn't help wondering what it is about me that kept his unfailing interest.

No one has ever shown so much attention or curiosity about me. Why is he so different?

Usually, when I refused to answer a question, people would stop coming near me. The Warden is an exemption, instead of shying away, I seem to have elicited a larger amount of interest in his eyes.

I don't understand him Maria, but I feel like he is meant to pry and become a part of my life. Why is that? Why do I feel like he is important? I never found anyone important other than you, mad Knight, and Shelby.

Hi love, you won't believe what that warden did for me today! He got me a table and a chair for my cell. What the hell is wrong with this man?

But you know, if I had a brother, he would probably be like the warden, relentless, curious, and forceful. Why wasn't I given one Maria?

Love?

I had a dream, or should I say-a memory that plagued my dreams last night. It was not a happy dream.

Do you remember when your husband brought a woman home and said that she'll start living in the house with you and the kids from then on?

I remember how you cried in a corner while lying to your kids about that woman's identity. You said she was a distant relative of yours, and that she needed a place to stay.
***

Sheldon abruptly stood from his chair and started throwing the things around him. The condiments which were meticulously set by a waiter earlier were scattered on the diner floor.

Nathaniel and Maximillian tried to calm the man down, but they failed. Both the Senator and the marine were perhaps old, but they have a big build and were physically strong in their own way-yet, the strength Sheldon manifested at that moment was beyond their expectation, causing their inability to subdue the raging man.

"This is a lie; it can't be true!" Sheldon screamed, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the diner.

Nathaniel resorted to the only thing he knew that could stop Sheldon, and that was to render him unconscious. He hit the man on the nape, and immediately, the raging man fell out of consciousness.

Not long after, Sheldon was taken inside one of the rooms of the Inn, located beside the diner.

The warden, ignorant of what happened stared at the two men who were heavily breathing-seated on the left corner of the small room.

"So, what happened?" Protacio finally asked, when his curiosity got the best of him.

Maximillian handed the letter to the warden and said, "he read something that shocked him."

Warden Protacio looked at the Letter and began to read, hoping to understand what could have triggered Sheldon's outburst.
***

(Letter Continuation)

The kids accepted it, believing what you said.

In the first week of her stay, you would usually spend the night in the living room or inside your children's.

I wanted to kill him, Maria. I needed to kill him for you. But I couldn't go through with it, because I saw how much you wanted him in your life.

If you didn't, would you have endured it all?

Were you waiting for someone to save you? Was it stupid of me not to have done anything at that time?

If I did, maybe-that never would have happened. That night would never have...

I'm so sorry Maria, but I made it all better in the end. Didn't I?

Merry Christmas! It's so cold tonight. I saw fireworks outside my cell window. It was magnificent. Various colors painted the horizon. There were numerous shapes and formations that I never thought were possible to have come from fireworks. It reminded me of that one new year's night I spent watching you and your kids. How I wish I could have one more night like that.

Love Forever

Your Silent Knight.