“Don’t.” Her voice stopped me cold. It was soft, but razor-sharp. “We don’t need lights.”
My heart hammered. “You can’t be in my home. Get out?—”
“You know me,” she said.
Something in my memory tugged, but recognition came slowly.
“You’re…” My throat dried. “You’re Medgar’s wife.”
She smiled without warmth. “Took you a moment. I’m a little insulted.”
I stood, and grabbed my robe, pulling it around me. “I don’t know what you want, but you need to leave. Now.”
“What I want? Oh, Gillian. I’ve wanted a lot of things for a long time. But mostly? I want you to sit with what you’ve done.” Her calmness was suffocating.
“I didn’t do anything?—”
She laughed. “In denial til the end.” She stepped closer. “You ruined my marriage. You slept with my husband. You ruined my son’s world before it even really began.”
My mouth opened, ready to deny, to defend myself, but nothing came out.
“And when Trell came to you, you used him. I didn’t think it was possible, but you managed to wreck my life again.”
“I didn’t?—”
“You fed his anger, his obsession. You handed him that girl like she was a sacrifice, like you didn’t know how your son would react.”
“I was trying to protect my family!” I protested.
“You destroyed your family,” she said. “Piece by piece.”
I backed away until I hit the wall.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I whispered. “You’re supposed to be gone. You disappeared.”
“Oh, I am hidden,” she said. “Just not from you.”
Something glinted in her hand. A gun. My breath left me in a terrified whoosh.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “You don’t?—”
She raised it.
“This isn’t about revenge. I just want to die in peace. I can’t do that knowing you’re still here reaping the benefits of all the destruction you caused,” she said softly.
There was a moment, one hopeful heartbeat, where I thought she might lower the weapon, that she might decide letting me live with the guilt was worse. Then, she squeezed the trigger.
A flash.
A sound that split the room.
A dull, sudden pressure in my chest.
I slid down the wall, legs folding under me. She stepped closer, kneeling so we were eye to eye.
“That’s for my son. For the lives you ruined. For the family you ripped open,” she whispered.
My vision blurred. And then, as the world dimmed around the edges, I saw her place the barrel to her own temple.
