Page 156 of No Greater Oblivion

With pursed lips she storms out of the room and slams the door shut behind her. I sit back, finish the last of the amber colored liquid in my glass, and then let it topple to the floor where it breaks into a dozen tiny pieces.

I remain in the dark where a million different sounds echo like a symphony in my mind.

The ticking of the clock in Dahlia’s hospital room.

The crackle and burn of the votive candles in the Basilica with Regina.

Sandro’s screams echoing across an empty warehouse.

My mother’s wailing when they put my father’s casket in the ground.

All these sounds blend together and lull me into deep, dreamless sleep.

Dahlia

Central Park felt like a safe middle ground for a meeting. Now I’m beginning to think this was a mistake.

I shouldn’t have come at all.

Diego and I sit in the cold for hours. He tells me everything: how the fire really started, what happened in the aftermath, and as the truth unfolds before me, fear and dread settle into my bones.

What if I made a mistake?

There’s no exonerating Alejandro from his actions and the way he made me feel. However, I can’t help but wonder if the roles were reversed, how close I’d come to my breaking point and if such a realization merits mercy on my part. I almost wish Diego hadn’t told me because now I know Alejandro and I weren’t the problem. There was no break in the foundation of our relationship, no hidden betrayal, or lack of compatibility. It was one person bearing an impossible weight out of fear and obligation and he was eventually crushed beneath it.

I wish I didn’t know.

I was prepared to move on. Make my peace with our breakup and allow time to do its healing. Weeks, months, maybe even a year would pass before it happened but it would eventually. Like every heartbreak before, I’d dust myself off, put myself together again, and be grateful for the time we had together rather than resent the year I wasted.

How can I do that now when I know the truth?

Regina mailed a photo of Karina to my house and it was enough for me to spiral out of control. I dove headfirst into enemy territory without a thought for my safety or the consequences. Sandro almost killed me. He set fire to Alejandro’s father’s lounge and we both got trapped inside. When I came out my injuries were minimal and I dismissed the whole thing as a freak accident. Alejandro didn’t.

Everything changed that night. A lifetime’s worth of animosity and bloodshed had finally caught up to him and it became about so much more than just me in a burning building. It was about his father’s murder and the collapse of his family. How at every turn, Sandro was there, waiting in the shadows to strike at him in any way he could, and going so far as destroying his sister’s life in the process. My own personal feelings aside, Alejandro loved Regina and Sandro destroyed whatever chance at happiness the two of them might’ve had. The fate they suffered at the hands of Sandro’s ambition was cruel and unjust. And to think that at some point, the life of an innocent child was in the middle of all this…

I can’t help but think of the baby’s death as merciful. God knew nothing good awaited them in this life.

Diego clears his throat and says, “That’s everything.”

“Do you promise?”

“Everything I know, at least. Alejandro didn’t give much detail on the other things he and Regina spoke about. Just the baby and how she helped get rid of Sandro.”

“And how did they? Kill him, I mean.”

His eyes are the bluest I’ve ever seen them. They practically glow in the white winter light. “Fire.”

He doesn’t elaborate nor do I need him to. Alejandro gave Sandro the fate he’d intended for me.

I know he deserved it but I’m no less disturbed by the knowledge of his demise. Such a cruel, inhumane way to die. Sandro doesn’t deserve my empathy after all the pain he’s caused and the lives he’s ruined but I still pray for forgiveness and mercy, knowing this act of violence is still on my conscience. I’ll have to carry it with me like all the other people who died because of me.

“Now you know the truth.”

“I suppose you expect me to forgive your brother now.”

Stress and worry has aged him beyond his twenty-six years. His brown skin is pale and sallow, the lines around his eyes and mouth more prominent than before.

“Dahlia…please. Come home. He’s a wreck without you. No one knows how to handle him right now.”