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Abel Moreno will be dead, and I will never allow him to taint my thoughts again.
"It's our turn," Mercedes whispers.
I nod at her, steadying her as we step forward together. Judge releases her reluctantly, their eyes connecting briefly before I escort her up the platform to stand before the devil himself.
Mercedes trembles in my grasp, and it is all I can do to hold her up as she meets his gaze. He won't look her in the eye. He won't look either of us in the eye.
As part of his plea, he did not hesitate to tarnish any other name in an effort to save his own. He told The Tribunal that Mercedes had hired the woman who poisoned me to lure me into adultery. He also tried to pass off the poisoning as her plan in a last-ditch effort, but the evidence against him could not be ignored. As one last parting shot, he cast a shadow over my sister's name. And there will certainly be a punishment from The Tribunal for her involvement in the scheme with the courtesan, no matter how small. Even I cannot save her from facing the consequences of her actions, but I can and will plead on her behalf. I suspect it will be a light sentence, hours of service to the Society. Time spent assisting the nuns. Whatever it may be, even Abel knows it will not come close to matching his own. Yet I believe that was his intention.
He would have my sister die for his actions. He would run down his own sister in cold blood and sacrifice his own family for his pursuit of power. How many lives has he destroyed? How many families?
The others involved in the schemes have been punished accordingly. Holton has been excommunicated for his role. Chamber’s surviving family members too, who were found hiding out in the South of France. They were guilty by association with Chambers himself, his shame too great to bear. But it is Abel who was the true snake amongst us.
When I look at his face, I understand what it means to have no soul. There is nothing in him to save. Nothing that will carry from this life to the next. And I believe, for him, that is the worst punishment of all.
"I want you to know something," I begin, my voice quiet and low.
He lifts his chin slightly, his eyes meeting mine for the first time. There is the hint of a smirk playing across his lips. He wants me to know I haven't won. That he will never possess any true regret for his actions. A fact that could only wound me if I hadn't realized it long ago myself.
"From this day forward, you will cease to exist," I tell him. "You will not be remembered. You will not be mourned. Nobody in this Society will ever utter your name again."
The smirk slips from his face, and in its place, a shimmer of rage appears.
"Our lives will go on. We will raise our children and prosper in your absence. Your family will be my family. Your sister, my wife. Your father, my father. The dark days you created will be long behind us. And when we gather for every holiday, there will not be an empty seat at the table. It will be as if you never existed at all. Your memory will be wiped away, forgotten. And I think, perhaps, that is the greatest gift you have given us. An apathy so pure, we can no longer harbor hatred for you. Nor sadness, nor loss. There is nothing, and there will always be nothing as far as you're concerned."
"You aren't their family," he snarls under his breath. "You never will be. And they will remember me. They will never forget—"
I unfold the note from Ivy, holding it up for him to see, and he goes rigid.
"You should know better than anyone, Abel, what it means when someone forgives. It means they have made peace with who you are. They have accepted the truth, and they have let you go. The cord is severed. It is the very reason your own father provided the evidence against you. There is nothing worth saving in you, and he understands that, perhaps better than any of us."
“No,” he growls. “You are wrong. He will grieve for me. You’ll see. You will all see. Nobody can ever replace me. Least of all you.”
A dark smile flickers across my face as I offer one last sentiment to carry him to his final breath.
“I already have.”
We turn to go, and Mercedes halts me, glaring back at Abel, steeling her strength as she stands taller. When she pulls away from me, I am not certain of her intentions, but I do not intervene as she approaches Abel. She pauses only when the tips of her heels bump against his bare feet, and for a moment, she stares at him with such unwavering strength, it reminds me of who she is at her core. She is determined to let Abel know it too. That she will rise from the ashes of her destruction. That his actions will not ruin her.
