-You know that it is. He's good with people. All people. But he can't let that...that skill of his lead him to do wrong by them or to them. But he doesn't want to see - "
- Doesn't? He's dead, Ben. There is no doesn't."
Ben thought she might weep then, but she did not. He said, -There is no shame in teaching one's children to do right, Dellen."
-Which means your right, yes? Not his. Yours. He was supposed to be made in your likeness, wasn't he? But he wasn't you, Ben. And nothing could make him in your likeness."
-I know that." Ben felt the words' intolerable weight. -Believe me, I know that."
-You don't. You didn't. And you couldn't cope with it, could you? You had to have him the way you wanted."
-Dellen, I know I'm to blame. Do you think that I don't? I'm as much to blame for this as - "
-No!" She rose to her knees. -Do not dare," she cried. -Don't bring that back to me just now because if you do, I swear if you do, if you even mention it, if you bring it up, if you try to, if you..." Words seemed to fail her. Suddenly, she reached for the mug he'd placed on the floor and she threw it at him. Hot tea stung his chest; the rim of the mug struck his breastbone. -I hate you," she said and then louder with each successive word, -I hate you, I hate you. I hate you."
He dropped off the bed and onto his knees. He grabbed her then. She was still shrieking her hate as he pulled her to him, and she beat on his chest, his face, and his neck before he was able to catch her arms.
-Why didn't you let him just be who he was? He's dead and all you ever needed to do was just to let him be. Was that too much? Was that asking too much?"
-Shh," Ben murmured. He held her; he rocked her; he pressed his fingers to her thick blonde hair. -Dellen," he said. -Dellen, Dell. We can weep for this. We can. We must."
-I won't. Let me go. Let. Me. Go!"
She struggled, but he held her firmly. He knew he couldn't let her leave the room. She was on the edge, and if she went over, they all would go with her and he couldn't have that. Not in addition to Santo.
He was stronger than she, so he began to move her even as she fought him. He got her to the floor, and he held her there with the weight of his body. She writhed, trying to throw him off.
He covered her mouth with his. He felt her resistance for a moment and then it was gone, as if it had never been. She tore at him, but it was clothing now: She ripped at his shirt, at the buckle of his belt; she pushed his jeans desperately over his buttocks.
He thought, Yes, and he showed no tenderness as he pulled her sweater over her head. He shoved up her bra and fell on her breasts. She gasped and lowered the zip on her trousers. Savagely, he slapped her hand away. He would do it, he thought. He would own her.
In a fury, he made her naked. She arced to accept him and cried out as he took her.
Afterwards, both of them wept.
KERRA HEARD IT ALL. How could she help it? The family flat had been transformed as inexpensively as possible from a collection of rooms on the hotel's top floor. Because it was needed elsewhere, very little money had gone into the insulation of the walls. They weren't paper thin, but they might as well have been.
She heard their voices first - her father's soft and her mother's rising - then the shrieking, which she could not ignore, and then the rest. Hail the conquering hero, she thought.
Dully, she said to Alan, -You need to go," although part of her was also saying, Do you understand now?
Alan said, -No. We need to talk."
-My brother has died. I don't think we need to anything."
-Santo," Alan said quietly. -Your brother's name was Santo."
They were still in the kitchen although not at the table where they'd been sitting when Ben had joined them. With the rising noise from Santo's bedroom, Kerra had shoved away from the table and gone to the sink. There she'd turned on the water to fill a pan,