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Everything’s finally clicking into place.

The knife to my throat. Him crying. Taking me to his home. Locking me up. Him being so distant. He himself didn’t even know what he wanted.

“You tried to kill me,” I say. “And then you didn’t. But you really did intend to, didn’t you?”

He takes another step back while I brace myself against the wall.

“Yes.”

The answer is finite.

No denial. No deviations.

This is the one single truth.

I should’ve realized it all along.

He never wanted me alive.

“Why?” Tears well up in my eyes.

“Because I knew I was just as evil as the people I killed. I needed to know if I could do what they did … if I could even take an innocent life …”

“So you chose me?” I say through gritted teeth.

“You were as innocent as can be,” he says.

My blood is boiling right now. “I was an experiment?”

“To a certain extent … yes.”

I move across the room and grab the nearest sharp thing I can find. A letter opener. He left it on the cabinet. It’s not a knife, but it’ll do. I need something to protect myself … from him.

If he wanted to kill me once, he could try again.

“I won’t hurt you,” he says.

“How can I trust anything you say?” I reply, tears streaming down my face. “You just told me to my face that I was supposed to die that day!”

Just uttering the words make them so much more painful.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” I hiss.

“Yes,” he says. “It’s true.”

My heart shatters into a million pieces.

I knew he attempted it in the canyon … but I never thought he truly meant it. I just thought he was scared, or maybe that I’d done something to anger him.

But none of that was true.

I was just a test to him.

A test to see if he could do it.

If he could become a true monster.

When he tries to approach, I hold up the letter opener like a weapon and say, “Stay back.”

“I did what I did because I needed to know the truth. I expected you to die, yes,” he says, “but you didn’t.”

“That doesn’t change a thing!”

“Yes, it does. Because it made me realize that I wasn’t completely evil. That I still have morals. That I still have something to live for. You.”

“No,” I snap, my hands shaking with rage. “You don’t get to say that. Don’t you try to mess with me.”

“I’m not,” he says. “It’s the truth. When I had you, captured you … I couldn’t kill you. No matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t because of your tears. Because of your face. Because of how badly I wanted to be human for you. You … broke me, Syrena.”

“Shut up,” I hiss, wishing I could turn off my hearing.

I don’t want to hear the words that’ll only unravel me more.

“I took you home because that was all I knew I could do,” he says. “Because I knew I’d fucked up. I never expected it to happen the way it did. And that I’d have you … and didn’t have a clue what to do with you. But the more time I spent with you, the more lost I felt.”

“Don’t,” I hiss. “Don’t you turn me into the bad guy.”

“I never said you were,” he says. “I am. I’m the bad guy for putting my own needs first.” He sinks to his knees. I can hear them hit the floor. “So all this time, while you’ve been here … I’ve been thinking of ways to make things right. To give you everything you need and more. To make your heart happy again. Because I took your innocence away from you, and I can never give that back.”

His voice is faltering, just like mine was. Just like my hands are right now as I try to hold the letter opener steady as I come closer toward him.

“Do it,” he says. “Kill me.”

My body freezes. “What?”

“Kill me like I tried to kill you. Give me what I deserve. Inflict all the pain you want to on me.”

“Why would you say that?” I shout, tasting the salt of my own tears. “Why now?”

“Because I deserve it. Because it makes you happy,” he says. “I have my arms behind my back. I won’t hurt you. I won’t fight. I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

“No,” I hiss. “You can’t do this.”

“Why? This is what you’ve wanted for so long, right? To end your own suffering?”

How can he say that like it doesn’t mean anything to him? As if his own life doesn’t matter?

“You’re not supposed to just surrender and make it easy!”

“But it’s what you want … what you need. And I want to make you happy.”

Happy? I don’t even know what that is anymore.

“How can I be happy if you turn me into a murderer too?” I yell.

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