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“Who said I don’t want to?” Castor shouts again, and I yelp in fear as he pulls us closer to edge of the cliff than ever before.
“Life is more important than that,” Brody says.
“The only life waiting for me out of here is a life in jail! I’ve got nothing to lose!”
“You do, Castor,” Brody puts, so calm it soothes me, “You have Lily. You like her. You like her music. It’s what touched you in the first place, so please, let Lily live and continue to make music. And live yourself for the love of her.”
With that, Castor starts to cry, sobbing inconsolably like a child separated from their mother.
“Lily… Jump with me and let’s live together forever!” Castor whispers in my ear.
“I’m sorry, no!” I say out loud. “I want to live, Castor! I want you to live! Please, let me go!”
Castor remains silent for a while, and when he speaks again, he sounds deeply hurt, “Is that really what you want, Lily?”
I simply nod my head.
Slowly, he loosens his grip on me, until finally removing his arms from around my torso. Mistrustful, I look over my shoulder, but Castor is looking down, not paying attention to me.
I take advantage of the situation and run for my life towards the policemen, towards Brody, burying my face against the curve of his arm and starting to cry desperately because now I finally feel safe.
“I love you, Lily!” I hear Castor cry out, and his voice catches my attention.
I look at him the exact same moment he jumps off the edge off the cliff.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
BRODY
“He’salive?” Lily asks in disbelief amid the rumble of the police station.
Sandra nods in reply. “Apparently, he slid down the face of the cliff and ended up on a plateau a hundred feet under. Just got some scratches and a broken leg.”
Lily looks at me with tears in her eyes, tears of pure joy born from the kindness she has towards human life. While she sits in a chair and I stand in front of her, I caress her face and her hair calmly, until she settles down.
She’s a good person. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the creep is alive, but you would never see me crying for someone like him.
“Now they will release Ben, right?” Lily asks full of hope.
“Your testimony of what his brother told you will help, but they are still investigating him for helping his brother.”
People come and go in a frenzied pace that makes me dizzy. I hate the energy of a police station.
The door beside Lily opens, and the officer in charge, a distinguished man with a glorious white mustache, comes out and calls, “Lily Rockwell?”
“It’s me,” Lily stands, raising a hand.
“You can come in,” he steps aside to let her in.
“Can Brody come with me?” she grabs a hold of my arm.
The officer thinks for a moment, but in the end says, “Of course, please come in.”
We follow him inside, and the room reveals itself to be a small, claustrophobic nook with a desk and three chairs.
“I’m Detective Daniels. I’ll be taking everyone’s statements today,” he says while taking a seat behind the desk. “Please tell me, when did Ken Horowitz first approached you tonight?”
“Castor.”
