“I think he had options,” I say. “And I think he chose the one that benefited him most. Even if it meant she’d have to die.”
Gavin scrapes a hand down his face. “That’s the same thing as killing her.” He turns to look at me. “Isn’t it?”
I don’t have an answer. I’ve been asking myself that question for eleven years.
The sky is now an inky black. We should probably leave, but neither of us moves.
“Is that why you hate him so much?” Gavin asks. “I know you’re pissed about the way he’s treated you. But is it more because of Mom?”
“It’s all connected.” I stand up from the bench. “He’s a sick, self-absorbed, controlling son of a bitch. The guy who’d let his wife die for power is the same guy who’d force his son into a marriage to build an empire. There’s no version of Eamon Molloy that isn’t willing to sacrifice the people closest to him.”
Gavin stands up, too. He glances at the grave one more time.
“She deserved better.”
“Yeah. She did.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze. He nods.
We walk down the hill together, silence stretching between us. When we get to my car, I click the alarm to unlock it. I press the ignition button once we’re both inside and the engine rumbles to life.
“I’ll drop you off at home,” I say, pulling onto the road.
“Thanks. And Loch?”
“Yeah?”
“The thing about Dad. And about Mom.” Gavin stares outthe window, his jaw tense. “I’m not gonna let it go. I want to know the truth. Whatever it takes.”
My hands tighten on the wheel.
“Gav. Some truths won’t ever set you free. Some truths just break you. Or worse.”
“Maybe.” He turns to look at me. “But I’d rather be broken and know than whole and ignorant.”
I nod. Because I understand exactly what he means.
I’ve been carrying this weight for a long damn time. Suspecting. Wondering. Never able to prove anything, but never able to let it go, either.
I don’t want my youngest brother to be saddled with that burden. I should protect him from it. That’s what I’ve always done. I’ve shielded him and the others from the worst of our family to protect them.
But maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s not a kid anymore. Maybe he deserves to know what kind of monster our father really is.
Or maybe we’ll both end up destroyed by the truth.
I guess time will tell
“Okay,” I say finally. “We’ll look into it together. But carefully. If Dad catches on to us digging?—”
“He won’t.”
“Gavin.”
“He won’t.” His voice is firm. “I’ve learned a few things growing up in this family. How to keep my head down. How to watch without being seen.” A hint of a smile appears. “I’m not as reckless as everyone thinks.”
I glance at his bruised face. “The evidence suggests otherwise.”
“That was different. That was on purpose.”
