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“How can you say that to me?”
“How’s it any different? If you can raise Isobel, you can look after Sophie. You’re not defined by your past, Jack. You’re defined by the choices you make, and I think you’re making the wrong one.”
“Consider your opinion noted.”
He sighs down the line. “Stubborn as ever. Hope you’re happy with the choice you’ve made.”
“It’s not about choice, it’s about doing what’s right.”
“And what is right? Abandoning the mother of your child?”
“What’s the alternative? I live with her and pretend I’m not who I am? They trained me to become this. They brainwashed me into becoming a killing machine. I can’t just switch it off and become the doting dad. I’m not wired for that. I’m wired for murder.”
“Thought you said you were retired?”
“You’re pissing me off now, Morgan.”
“Good. Maybe that’ll get you thinking a little more and blundering through life a little less. Take some time thinking this through because you have got to live with your decision for a long time once it’s made.”
“She told me she didn’t want me around. How am I the bad guy for giving her what she wants?”
“She was angry with you. We all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, aren’t you a saint? Look, I wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t your friend. I think you need to decide who you are. Are you an empty soul or are you a man in pain who’s willing to give family life a shot? What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I end up hurting them both.”
“You’re already doing that with this disappearing act. Who are you, Jack?”
“A bad person.”
“That’s what they wanted you to believe when they were training you. I think different. You let Vincenzo live when you could have killed him. You took Isobel in when you could have left her to her fate. That sound like a bad person to you?”
I don’t say anything for a moment before the truth slips out of my lips. “I don’t know who I am. I only know what I am. I’m bad news, Morgan. Delete my number. Forget me. Go play your games.”
“Easy way out, right? But you need to know who you are. You need to work it out. That’s the question here, isn’t it? The real question. The only question. Who are you?”
The line goes dead. I realize I’m gripping my phone so tightly it’s creaking. I loosen my fingers slowly, looking around me at the people getting on with their lives. Will I ever feel like them? Will I ever feel normal? Will I ever forget the deaths? The killings?
Will I ever be able to forget Clarissa and Sophie?
19
“You should be happy.” Maddy looks at me while kids swim around my ankles.
I look across at her. She’s come to see me at work. She never does that. “Tell me again.”
“I don’t know what’s so hard to grasp. Mom double checked it. You’ve got two million dollars in your account. Why aren’t you more happy? Do you think it’s a mistake or something?”
“Who put it there?”
“According to mom, it was from the executor of your father’s estate. Stipulation of the will was that you were to receive it direct into your account in trust for when Sophie turns eighteen. Why aren’t you more happy? You’re officially a millionaire.”
“Is your mom at work now?”
“Sure. Why?”
