ECHOES OF US | 18+ ✔️

EPILOGUE (Part I)

DANTÉ

(29 years later)

As I near sixty, the weight of my accomplishments as a police captain pales in comparison to the ache of loss that shadows me every day. Sending Mia and our daughter away was a decision born of necessity—an act to protect them when I was weak and danger loomed too close. At the time, it felt like the only choice, but the cost was unbearable.

Life as I knew it shattered, and I became an empty man, consumed by pain, grief and regret. Fortunately, with the support of top therapists, I recovered fully from the gunshot wounds to my chest. I returned to the force, feeling more motivated than ever—with unrelenting determination. My work became my anchor, my purpose.

Yet beneath it all, there was always Sal—a man who had nearly ended my life and continued to threaten my existence.

Bringing him down was no simple task. It demanded sleepless nights, relentless effort, and a resolve forged in pain for more than a year. But in the end, we dealt with him not by the book, but by the rules of the world he lived in—his own twisted code.

Even after Sal was eliminated, I couldn't bring myself to reunite with my family. The thought of stepping back into their lives felt like shattering the fragile peace they had built. My past clung to me like a shadowy curse, and my work—hunting down dangerous criminals—posed a threat I had to protect them from.

The only choice I had was to stay away, to give my wife and daughter the chance at a normal life—the life they deserved, untainted by my darkness. But distance didn't quiet the yearning in me. I hired a private investigator friend to capture the moments I couldn't witness myself. Through stolen photographs and whispered updates, I watched my daughter grow, celebrating her triumphs from afar, even as I ached to be part of them.

There were rare moments when I couldn't resist, slipping unnoticed into the crowd at her school concerts, even her graduation. Watching my bambina on that stage, radiant with accomplishments, filled me with a pride so fierce it nearly brought me to my knees. She graduated Magna cum Laude from USC—a remarkable achievement that spoke of her determination and brilliance. {little girl}

But as the applause roared around her and Mia's pride resonated, my heart fractured quietly in the shadows. I couldn't be there to celebrate with her, to shout my pride for the world to hear. I couldn't pull her into my arms like a father should and tell her how proud I am of her.

Even so, she made me proud beyond measure—not just for her achievements, but for her strength. She had carved her own path, her ambitions shining brighter than the need for anyone else to define her worth. She was unstoppable, and even from afar, I knew I was witnessing something extraordinary.

Mia raised Skylar beautifully, and it shattered me to know I hadn't been part of it. I've spent years telling myself they were better off without me, clinging to that thought like a lifeline—convincing myself it was true. Another lie I repeated was that they didn't deserve someone who had abandoned them, someone who had failed to stay. I told myself I didn't deserve a second chance, and though I knew deep down it wasn't entirely true, the shame of how deeply I had hurt Mia was harder to ignore.

Her pain ran so deep that she erased me completely from her life. She sold the luxury apartment and car I had given her and even stopped touching the money I had set aside for her and Skylar. They were cared for—I made sure of that—but Mia chose to do it on her own. She worked herself to the bone, sacrificing so much to provide for herself and Skylar when it wasn't necessary.

It was her way of taking back control, of reclaiming her independence. But it crushed me to think of her struggling when she didn't have to, all because I had broken her so completely. Even the photos and info the PI shared clearly showed her sadness, her lack of friends, and that she was only ever with our daughter—no other man, which I was thankful for.