Chapter 14: The Return of the Craftsman
Five years after his sentencing, the heavy security gates of FCI Otisville opened on a clear spring morning.
Julian stepped out onto the rural road, carrying a single canvas bag containing his personal effects and release documents.
He was forty-four years old now. His hair was trimmed short and practical, streaked with silver at the temples; his frame was lean, muscular, and hardened by years of honest manual labor. He wore a simple denim work jacket, clean canvas trousers, and sturdy leather boots.
Waiting by the tree line across the road was Marcus, standing beside an old flatbed pickup truck loaded with dry-stone walling tools.
Julian walked across the road, stopping three paces away.
""Hello, Marcus,"" Julian said, his voice low, steady, and free of all former pretense.
Marcus looked at him, studying the honest, quiet humility in Julian’s eyes, and extended a strong, calloused hand.
""The stone cooperative in Becket needs a site estimator who knows how to calculate raw tonnage, Julian,"" Marcus said with a warm, respectful nod. ""Get in. The quarry is waiting.""
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Julian took Marcus’s hand with an iron grip, climbed into the passenger seat, and looked forward as the truck rolled north toward the mountains.
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