I couldn’t even respond. My mind screamedmurderer, but my heart felt debilitating pity, as if his remorse were mingling with my own, our brokenness forever linked.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “If I could do it all over again, I would refuse. I would have let them kill me.” Tears slid down his cheeks.
“I believe you,” I said weakly.
Without another word, I turned to Remy and held out my hand. She took it. I looked at Rylen and nodded to the door. He and the chaplain moved Tater toward it. In the lobby, we ignored the stares of everyone who’d heard the commotion and come to check it out. The four of us went to mine and Remy’s room, and together we sat. Each of their unguarded faces mirrored my brokenness.
Seeing the face of the person who’d killed our families, and knowing he’d been a blind part of the Bael race’s plans, left us bleeding all over again. There would be no funerals. No court trials. Michael King would have to live this miserable existence with the rest of us. We would not try to punish him.
Instead, we talked about our families. We told stories, ridiculous reminiscing that had us in stitches of laughter, wiping tears. But there was something healing about the tales of our loved ones who we’d never see again in this lifetime. Something soul-nourishing and cleansing about bringing them back to life through our memories, reminding ourselves they would always live on in us. Through us.
Our hearts were raw and tender by the time Tater and Rylen left for their own room. I let Remy snuggle me as we fell asleep, thankful the four of us still had each other.
