Albert slid a document across the table. FBI witness protection agreement. Dated August 1974. Thomas’s signature at the bottom.
“He chose to testify. To disappear. To let you believe he was dead rather than put you at risk.”
My hands were shaking. “For fifty years?”
“He couldn’t contact you while the case was active. By the time it was over, you’d remarried. Built a new life. He didn’t want to disrupt that.”
“So he just… stayed gone?”
“He built a business. Made a fortune. And never stopped thinking about you.”
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