The Beginning of Hope: The Highly Anticipated, Mind-Blowing Sequel to the Killing of Faith (The Killing of Faith Series Book 2)

by William Holms

  “Who?”

  “Another girl he was using to smuggle drugs,” he says.

  “Did she help?”

  “Well, I was out of the country so I couldn’t be there for the trial. Actually, my mother was in poor health so I quit my job maybe a month before her trial and went back to the U.S. to take care of her. I learned from my colleague that the judge denied her continuance, which isn’t surprising. Your dad had a fit. He kept demanding that the judge give him more time. He almost got himself thrown in jail.”

  “Yep, that sounds like my dad,” I say. “So she was found guilty?”

  “She was found guilty,” he confirms.

  “And she got the death penalty?” I ask.

  “No, if I remember right she was given forty, maybe fifty years. To a Thai judge that’s being lenient.”

  I already knew about the fifty years. It’s not as shocking hearing it now. “So what happened? Where’s my mom now?” I ask.

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “I’m sorry Hope,” he says. “I thought you knew. I thought you were here to find out more about her.”

  “I am,” I say, “but I’m also here to talk to her. I need answers. Can you tell me where she is?”

  He doesn’t respond. He looks at his computer with a blank stare so I ask, “Is my mom at another prison?”

  Obviously choked up, he says, “I’m really sorry Hope, but your mother passed away years ago.”

  Passed away! Before now I’ve never personally known anyone who’s died. My mom is dead? I don’t know what to think or how I feel.

  I look over at Blake to see his reaction. He seems more affected by all this than I am. You’d think he actually knew my mom. I guess I’ve spent so long hating her for leaving us that I can’t just turn that anger off. The whole point of my trip was to find out what happened, confront my anger, and put it away forever.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Hope, I’m always more involved with the prisoners when they first arrive - before the trial. It’s my job to make sure she’s treated fairly. I would check in on her from time to time to make sure she was doing okay. At first she was terrified. She was losing weight and wasn’t looking too good. Then she started doing better. I think her parents were putting money in her account for food and clean water. She started exercising and doing things to keep her mind occupied. Then, like I said, I left to go back to the states.”

  About this time Mr. Sassen’s phone buzzes so he picks it up and tells the person on the other end something in Thai. It sounds like his wife or something. He hangs the phone up and continues.

  “Eventually my mom passed away, and I was offered this job. You know, I missed Thailand. I missed my old friends. This can be a wonderful place to live. There’s so much to do, and so many beautiful places to see. The weather is great. I love the food here. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to look around, but Thailand’s a lot more than just a place to party. Go to the beaches. Travel the countryside. It’s a great place to travel around and see some other countries. Singapore is ––”

  “Mr. Sassen,” I interrupt trying to get him back on track.

  “Anyway, I took the job. It was over two years later when I returned. Your mother was already in the prison hospital and not doing good at all. She was pretty weak and in poor health. She didn’t even recognize me. By that time she was so thin. I came and visited her every day. She passed away a couple weeks later.”

  “How did she die?” I ask.

  “It’s not uncommon for the court to release someone from prison before serving their full sentence. This usually gives people enough hope to keep going, but it’s not easy. It’s very difficult to survive in a Thai prison unless you’re very strong. You have help on the outside. Your mom was strong, but after her parents died she had no one. She stopped receiving money for food and water and her health began to deteriorate.”

  “So she got sick?” I ask.

  “It’s hard to get answers when someone dies in prison. They want it to go away – sweep it under the rug.”

  “She’s a person,” I exclaim. “She’s my mom. You just forget her like she’s some old rug?”

  “I know,” he agrees, “so I did a little digging. From what I found, she was admitted to the hospital weak and malnourished. She also developed a pretty bad Staph infection, and that’s not good. She had a fever and her blood pressure was high. She might have developed tuberculosis from the water she was drinking. This is also very common. You don’t get the best medical care in these prisons.”

  “It might be seven or eight years before she’d be transferred out. Well, seven years in here can seem like an eternity. I’m surprised she made it three years. I think she just got tired of holding on, hoping for some miracle. At some point she just stopped eating. Really, I think she just gave up.”

  The more he talks, the more he explains what happened, the more emotional I become. His words don’t come easy. Seeing how it affects him starts affecting me. It all sounds so horrible. My eyes fill with tears, but I wipe them away before it shows. Blake sees me starting to cry and takes my hand.

  Mr. Sassen continues. “Most people who die here are angry and bitter, but not your mom. She just kept thanking me for everything I did for her. That’s just it….I didn't really do anything for her. I gave her the same talk, the same Bible, I give everyone. Yeah, I talked to the prosecutor a few times, but there wasn’t a lot I could do for her. She just kept thanking me. She said this prison saved her – that I saved her. Honestly, she wasn’t making a lot of sense at the end.”

  “She kept that Bible with her all the time. She didn't want to put it down. She’d take it to the bathroom, when she slept – everywhere. It’s like it made her happy holding it, and if it gave her some peace of mind then I was all for it. I had a spiritual advisor, a priest, come pray for her. She kept saying she’s going home. I think she was hallucinating – thinking she was being released. She said her mom and dad were waiting for her. She kept talking about seeing her son. She reached out and took the priest’s hand – kept calling him Daddy and telling him how much she loved him.”

  Do you have her Bible?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure what happened to that Bible,” Mr. Sassen says.

  I bury my face in my hands to hide my tears. Mr. Sassen hands me a box of tissues. I wipe my eyes, look up, and say, “Mr. Sassen, I want to see her. I want to go to her gravesite. Where is she’s buried?”

  “When a prisoner dies in Thailand they notify the family. I tried to reach her family, but I couldn’t find anyone. If the family doesn’t pick up the body the prisoner is buried in an unmarked grave. After all these years it’s difficult to know where your mother was buried.”

  The thought of my mom buried in a Thai prison grave with no one – not so much as a cross on her grave – chokes me up. I came all this way to meet her, to talk to her, and now she’s gone? I can’t even tell her goodbye? Why wasn’t I here? Why didn't she at least have her children beside her?

  “So, she died all alone,” I ask, wiping the new tears from my eyes.

  “No, I tried to stay with her as much as I could, but I’m not sure if she even knew I was there. She was pretty out of it. At first she would return to her cell and see her friends. Close to the end, I arranged for them to come to her hospital bed. The prison doesn’t like it, but I’m usually able to pull some strings when things get bad. Before her situation took a turn for the worse, she wrote three letters to each of her kids and asked that I mail two of them. She said she’d deliver the last one herself. This made no sense. Like I said, I don’t think she really knew everything she was saying.”

  This is all too much to get my arms around. It’s like the floor just dropped out from underneath me. I can’t hold back. I start really crying. I grab several tissues and ask, “Do….do you….do you still have them?”

  “No, I mailed them just like she asked.”

  “I don’t
remember getting anything,” I say. “Maybe my dad showed me the letters. I was pretty young.”

  I feel so stupid crying like this in front of Blake and a complete stranger, but I can’t stop. I’m holding tissues in one hand and Blake’s hand in the other. “Mr. Sassen, did you know my mom? Can you tell me about her?”

  “I didn’t know her that well. She was so scared when she first arrived – everyone’s scared when they arrive. She made friends. I told her that she needed to stay mentally and emotionally strong. I gave her some books about yoga and meditation. She really took to it. She told me she was doing yoga three or four hours every day. She started teaching others.”

  Wow! My mom was teaching yoga? For the first time in my life I feel a connection to her. “She actually taught yoga?” I ask.

  “She did, and she had just about everyone in her cell joining in. At first I thought this would be her key to survival. She even learned Thai from a few of the women. She started teaching them English. I think she might have survived if she hadn’t gotten so sick. I see it all the time. You just can’t live on the food and water they give you.”

  “Can you tell me any more about her?”

  “I’m not really the one to ask. I did what I could, but I didn't see her that often. Once your dad got involved he pretty much took over.”

  Mr. Sassen puts his head in his hand like he’s in deep thought. “You know, if I remember right, your mom had a couple of close friends in here. If you want to know more about her, you should ask them.”

  “Can you give me their information?” I ask.

  “This was so long ago. Everything from back then is in boxes. Give me a few days, and I’ll look through my old files. I’ll get my notes, and see what I can find. Do you have an email where I can send everything to you?”

  I give him my phone number and my email address. “Mr. Sassen, I’ll be here three more days. I’d really like to visit with her friends while I’m in Thailand.”

  “I’ll look right away. If I find anything I’ll send it to you today.”

  “Is it possible to see the prison where she stayed?”

  “That’s not possible,” he says. “I really don’t think that would be helpful anyway. It's not a place you want to see.”

  I take a card off his desk, and put it in my purse. Blake and I stand up and I shake his hand. “I thank you so much for meeting with me. You’ve been a big help. I appreciate any information you can find.”

  Blake extends his hand.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you,” Mr. Sassen says. “I know you traveled a long way. I’m so sorry I didn’t have better news for you. I wish I could do more.”

  “You’ve done plenty,” I say with a smile before walking out the door.

  Blake and I don’t talk for most of the taxi ride back. I don’t think he knows what to say. As we get closer to Khaosan Road he takes my hand and whispers, “I’m really sorry, Hope.”

  His words hit me so hard. I fall into his arms and cry. “I'm so sorry,” he says again and again.”

  I lay against this chest, unable to say anything.

  – CHAPTER 12 –

  B ack at the hotel I go to my room and call Grace. “Hello,” she mumbles like she just woke up. I completely forgot about the difference in time. “I’m so sorry Grace. I didn’t mean to wake you. Do you want me to call back later?”

  “No, I just fell asleep,” she says sounding a little more awake. “I want to know what you found. Hold on. I’m gonna go to the kitchen.” A moment later she says, “So what did you find.”

  “Well, I met with Mr. Sassen. He was the prison liaison when Mom arrived.”

  “Okay,” she says slowly. “Did he tell you where Mom is now?”

  “She died Grace. She died about seven years ago.”

  “What!” she says in shock. I don’t know what to say. For a minute or so there’s only silence on the line so I ask, “Grace, you there?”

  Again there’s more silence until finally, talking through her tears, she says, “Oh my God Hope. I can’t believe this.”

  I thought Grace was so angry at Mom that she wouldn’t really care. Obviously, she has more feelings than she’s been letting on. I can hear her continuing to cry over the phone so I ask, “You okay Grace?”

  It’s still difficult for her to talk. “I thought….I thought she was still in prison or….or….or maybe she got out and started over somewhere.” She starts crying even more. “But I never, never, expected this.”

  Hearing how much our mom’s death hurts her makes it even more real for me. My mother, my biological Mother, has died! Listening to Grace cry makes me cry. “Grace,” I continue, “when I told the guy her name he immediately stopped and looked at me. It was personal for him. He remembered her. He got so choked up.”

  “How did she die?” she asks.

  “He didn’t know for sure. He said that she really went downhill after her trial. After Grandma and Grandpa died, she couldn’t get the food and water she needed. She had a fever and got an infection or something. She went to the hospital, but died a few weeks later.”

  “Oh my God,” she says still crying. “I’m so sorry you had to find out like this. I should have come with you.”

  “It was weird, Grace. Mr. Sassen said she was kinda losing it. She said she was going to see her son. How would Mom even know that Colt died?”

  “I don’t know,” Grace says. “Maybe Dad told her.”

  “Maybe so,” I say. “I want to know more about her. Mr. Sassen’s going to find out more information for me. I’ll let you know when I know more.”

  “Be careful Hope. You have to be careful.”

  I hang up the phone and lay in bed. I reach in my purse and pull out the picture of me, as a little girl, sitting in my mom’s arms at the Grand Canyon. To think of my mom, so beautiful and happy, but later sick, malnourished, and all alone is beyond anything I would wish on anyone. I lay in a little ball and cry.

  Blake comes into the room, and sees me lying on my stomach crying. He sits beside me on the bed, puts his hand on my back, and says, “I’m so sorry Hope. Is there anything I can do?”

  I turn on my side, reach for him, and whisper, “Hold me.”

  He lies down beside me, and I lay my head on his arm like a pillow. I just don’t want to be alone. I’m so tired that I eventually stop crying and fall asleep. Half asleep, I feel him lean close and kiss the tears from my eyes.

  – CHAPTER 13 –

  I wake up the next morning with Blake still by my side and our bodies pressed together. I think we stayed in the same position all night except his free arm is now holding my waist and his leg is resting between my legs. We are only inches apart when I open my eyes. We spent the entire day together. Now he looks so peaceful and at ease. The sadness on his face when he heard about my mother really touched me. I want to thank him. I want to connect with him. I want to move forward and kiss him. Instead, I close my eyes, lie back in his arms, and doze off again.

  When I open my eyes again he’s awake looking right at me. “Good morning,” he says. “Did you get any sleep?”

  “I slept like a baby,” I say, “I must look terrible.”

  “You don’t terrible at all,” he says moving my hair from my eyes.

  It’s kinda hard to know what to say after sleeping in each other’s arms all night. I know almost nothing about this man except he’s a senior in college (which probably makes him twenty-two), he seems kind, he rescued me, and he’s beautiful.

  I know I’m just being silly. I just heard about my mom dying, and I was all alone. I wanted to be held. I really gave him no choice. It’s not like it was something romantic or anything. I’m sure a guy like him has a beautiful girlfriend back home. Maybe he’s already in love or engaged. He was probably waiting all night to get out of here.

  I get up, sit on the edge of the bed, and check the emails on my phone. There’s an email from “The Office of the US Embassy and Consulate,” that came in yesterday. I kno
w who sent it.

  ============================================

  Hope:

  It was a pleasure meeting you yesterday. I only wish it was under better circumstances. I found your mother’s file and my old notes. They listed your mother’s cause of death as tuberculosis. It’s not always accurate, but I thought you would want to know.

  I found the names of the friends your mother told me about. I did a little digging and tracked them down. Her closest friend was named Mali Chen. Mali was already at the prison when your mother arrived. I know they were close. She was serving a long sentence and was never released. Unfortunately, she passed away a few months after your mom died. I can find nothing more about her.

  Her other friend’s name is Tian Sakaeo. She arrived at the prison after your mother and was released five years ago. It appears she still lives in Bangkok. You can find her contact information below. I hope this helps.

  Hope, you are a beautiful young lady. I know your mother would be proud of you. Feel free to contact me if you need anything else.

  Mike Sassen

  United States Consulate

  PS: I could not find the location where your mother is buried. You might want to check with your Father.

  ============================================

  The last sentence makes no sense at all. Check with my mother? I’m mentally and emotionally exhausted. Really, my trip is over. I found what I was looking for. Part of me wants to get back on the plane and return home. I want to put all this behind me. Another part of me wants to know more about my mother. My dad rarely talks about her. This may be the last chance I have to know more. It can’t hurt to talk to this Tian woman.

  I take a long shower that feels so good. When I walk into the living area Blake is the only one waiting. “Everyone else went down to eat,” he says.

  I show him the email and tell him how I want to find Tian.

  “I’ll go with you,” he says.

  “No, you’ve done enough. I came here to learn about my mother. You came here to have a good time.”