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The paper is ripped here.
Her response is gone.
Leroy Ellison, being the monster that he is, is going to deny me my mother’s last words. He brought me to the brink, then yanked it away. He was playing with me all along.
Rage billows in on clouds of red in my vision, and I find myself at the door, kicking and punching and yelling. No one hears, of course, and I turn, looking at the monitor. The men are in Zuzu’s room, and they are taking her by the hand. The one who does the talking looks directly at the camera, directly at me.
He waves goodbye.
A cold pang runs through my heart, and if they went back on their word with the journal, then they will go back on their word with my daughter.
They aren’t taking her back to her mother.
They are taking her out to kill her.
Fear for my daughter fights through the numbing fog of the drugs, and it emerges on top and I struggle with the door. I shout for Zuzu, to console her, to tell her that I love her, but it is all for nothing.
They are gone, and I am alone, and no one can hear me.
After a minute, I slump down on the bed, and I look outside, watching for them.
They walk outside and Zuzu is between them. She is barefoot and in her pajamas, and her blond hair gleams under the light of the moon. They are taking her out back. I pound on the glass and shout as loud as I can, but they don’t turn around.
Are they going to kill my daughter by the lake? Will they distract her so she isn’t afraid?
I am frozen in place as I watch. My hands are ice cold. The steel of the gun is even colder. I curl my fingers around the barrel.
I can’t watch them kill Zuzu.
I can’t do it.
I’m strong enough for anything but that.
I lift my face to the sky and I do something I haven’t done in a long time.
I pray.
“God, please. Save my daughter. She doesn’t deserve to pay for my sins. She’s innocent and good. Everything that I’m not. Please… save her. And if you can’t, for some reason, please make it painless. Make it quick. And then let she and I be together. Somewhere. Anywhere. Please take care of Mila. Please let her know that I loved her. More than life, more than anything. Please, God. I know I don’t deserve an answered prayer, but if you could just do this. Please.”
I am muttering but I have to believe that God knows my heart. He knows what I am trying to say.
“Please, forgive me for what I am about to do. I can’t live without them. I can’t live knowing that my daughter has died because of me. I’m not strong enough for that. Please forgive me.”
I know they’ll come back inside and kill me anyway.
When I go, it will be on my own terms.
I lower my chin, and I stare out the window. I remember walking on that beach with my wife, hand in hand. She smiled up at me, and she made everything good. The world is better with Mila in it. God knows that.
“I love you,” I whisper to her. “I love you.”
I picture her face, and I picture her smile, and I picture her answering me.
“I love you, too, Pax.”
I lift the gun. The tip of it rests beneath my chin.
I take a breath.
