The familiar smell of fresh grass and sweet forest air greeted Nathaniel as his car passed below the concrete arch that bore the word Welcome to San Ignacio. He tapped on the button near the stirring wheel to fully open the window, in hopes to allow the sweet scent to engulf the inside of their car.

Maximillian and Protacio had long been awake. The two old men had been begging Nathaniel to stop the car to relieve them from their aching muscles. They slept through a large number of hours during the drive since leaving the Inn. Being the aged person that they were, they needed to get the blood on their legs flowing properly.

Nathaniel agreed and parked the car in front of a familiar restaurant. It was noon. They could have their lunch, along with the much-needed body stretching that the two old men begged for.

When the car came to a full stop. Both Maximillian and Protacio immediately stepped out of the car.

"This town seems like a good place to settle in after my retirement, " Protacio commented, after taking in the entirety of the place.

San Ignacio, Region 2 of the Sumatsa region was strategically located on the northeastern part of mainland Lapaya. It was bounded by three mountain ranges: the Sierra Madre Mountains on the east, the Corrona Mountains on the West, and the Balerra Mountains on the South. Since it was the month of February, the place was experiencing its cold season. The wind that blew on the faces of the two old men gave a melancholic feel.

"Well, let's keep these old sticks moving," Maximillian said as he threw a glance at the warden.

The two followed a dirt path that led to a small garden while Nathaniel and Sheldon entered the restaurant and sat on a chair. They ordered pancit Batil patong which was their town's pride. It was a delicacy that mainly consisted of yellow noodles topped with sautéed vegetables and meat, garnished with a fried egg.

Nathaniel kept his eyes on Sheldon, who at that time was silent, eyes gazing at the window of the restaurant.

"Are you sure there's nothing you want to speak to me about?" Nathaniel asked, before shoving a spoon full of noodles inside his mouth.

Sheldon heard his brother-in-law, he honestly felt sorry for failing to answer his questions. He knew the man was worried about him. Sheldon was also aware that Nathaniel feared bringing him to Valerie in a broken and defeated state. But in truth, Sheldon was no longer in anguish. He no longer felt burdened. After reading the letters, he surprisingly felt the weight on his chest which he kept for decades, lifted off.

He will face Valerie and their mother with a renewed insight into the events of that fateful night. Although he had not gotten a firm explanation from 247's letter yet, he was not dumb enough to understand why the man did what he had done.

Nathaniel, who at that time was busy eating his lunch, was startled when Sheldon suddenly spoke. He was awaiting the man's reply but did not truly believe that Sheldon would respond.

"Don't worry man, I'm alright," Sheldon murmured as he finished the last of his meal. He stood from the chair and left Nathaniel, just as Protacio and Maximillian made their way towards their table.

He gave the two old men a nod, before leaving the restaurant. Sheldon was aware of the look the three threw in his wake, but he didn't bother explaining himself.

He sat on a fallen tree branch located near their car, pulled out another letter from his jacket, and began to read.

***

Dear Maria,

How are you? I feel so weak my love. My chest pains are getting worse. I kept taking the maintenance medicine provided by the infirmary, but I think it did me no good.

I can feel the cold wind seeping inside my jail cell, far stronger than I felt in the previous years. Am I about to die, Maria? Am I leaving this earth? Will I finally be at peace?

I miss you. Perhaps, when I finally take my last breath, my final words would still be of your safety.

Since I fear the coming of that day. Allow me to continue with my confessions.

After the funeral of your in-laws, your life began to change. I couldn't tell if it was for the better or worse because your husband rarely hit you, screamed at you, or brought women home.

Well, that's because he rarely came home. Right, Maria?

That time of our life slowly mellowed my raging emotions. My anger subsided along with the need to kill your husband. You were smiling every day. You started to look happy, content, and prettier. Your once dull skin had taken a healthier tone. Your long hair returned to its shiny, ebony state. Your eyes no longer held tears. Your kids even seemed calmer and happier, too. Everything seemed to have taken a peaceful path.

But why was destiny unfair to you and me Maria? Why couldn't they give you and me a break? It was nothing but a cruel and false sense of security.

You were starting to live again. But all that happiness and glee went crumbling down on the night of November 18, 1969. Why did he have to serve that divorce paper on your birthday, Maria? How heartless can he be? Why did he step inside your house with a woman whom he said would take your place and become the new mother of your kids?

Why did the heavens allow such a thing? Haven't they given you enough pain and suffering? Your sorrowful cries were heartbreaking, yet the world wanted to shove you further into darkness and pain.

Everything was running smoothly? I was an idiot to have believed it.

But I have to admit, for a moment, I felt happy when I heard the word divorce. But, when he said that he could not take the kids after the separation, my sight was immediately consumed with dark and crimson. And when you finally fell on your knees and cried, clung to his legs, and begged for him not to take your children away, It ignited in me, a blazing inferno of hate towards your husband. I heard my wedding vow roaring like angry thunder above my head, screaming in my ears like a furious demon. My body shook so much, that I felt like the joints in my arms loosened, along with what little sanity I had left.

The familiar pain of your tears that stemmed from your broken heart consumed my mind once more, in a manner far stronger than it had ever been. Acid, your tears were acid to me!

No, my love. He cannot take your kids away from you. They were your life. Please know that I would never have allowed such a thing to happen. Those mournful tears you shed that night were not needed, because you had me. I vowed never to let it happen.

I swore that he would die. He will pay, and he will suffer with immense pain, which I vowed too far outweighs yours.

I began to stalk your husband in the hospital he was working at. I made sure I knew when he timed in and out of work. I wrote down the people who often spoke to him, walked with him, and even the people he usually hung out with. I studied his quirks and friends too.

I took note of where he would usually eat, and even the places where he occasionally took his women. Did you know that your husband owned another house? He did Maria. It was a few blocks from his workplace.

On the eve of December 18, 1969, while everyone was busy buying gifts and groceries for the holidays, I was busy buying all the items I needed to kill your husband.

I found a cabin a few miles from Marreta. It was an abandoned place. I tidied and tailored it to make sure that it was enough to prevent any means of escape from your husband. I wasn't planning on giving him an easy death. As I mentioned before, I planned to make him suffer a pain far greater than yours.

I was so consumed with the idea of killing him, that it kept me relishing the thought of skinning him alive. Every night I dreamt of the numerous ways on how to make him scream and beg. He must understand that he cannot walk the earth without receiving punishment for what he did to you. His death will be your retribution. His screams will be the remission of your unheard sobs. His blood will serve as payment for your tears.

I was ready Maria.

Everything was in motion.

Merry Christmas my love! This year, our crazy warden gave us a box of cookies each! Where did he get the money? Was it from the government or his pocket?

He is such a weird but kind man. No wonder some of the prisoners, even the terrible ones, showed him respect.

Love forever

Your Silent Knight

***

Sheldon folded the letter and shoved it into his pocket when he saw Nathaniel and the others headed his way.

He turned his face towards the sky and took a deep breath. He decided to read the remaining letters with Valerie and his mother. They, too, must understand why everything happened. How it happened, and why that man decided to do what he had done.

"Sheldon!" Nathaniel yelled when he motioned to enter the car. Sheldon stood from the fallen tree branch and walked towards them.

He smiled with every step he took, I'm finally free of the guilt, he murmured-with only the wind as a silent listener.