to look at him or the vacant look in his eyes.
“T-Tom!” Margot sobs. “Come back, honey. You can’t leave.”
Still carrying me in his arms, Jonathan stops in front of her and levels her with one of his wrath-inducing glares. The look of a god about to destroy everything in his path. “You raised him on useless revenge and eventually killed him, Margot. You’ll rot in prison for the rest of your life thinking that. You’ll regret the second you were born. Now, that is my revenge.”
He doesn’t wait for her reply as he strides out of the kitchen, her pained sobs and wails following after us like arrows.
My eyes are barely able to stay open, and my head feels wrong. What did they inject me with anyway?
I thought the heaviness in my head would loosen after being released from the ropes, but it’s getting worse.
“J-Jonathan…I…d-don’t feel so good…”
“Aurora.”
His voice turns hollow and distant.
“Aurora!”
My grip on his shirt slackens as my head rolls back and everything turns black.
33
Aurora
Life has never been the same after that night.
I think that’s a given, considering how Jonathan’s ‘man’ sniped down Tom as if he were a fly. When I asked Jonathan who the sniper was, he told me it was no one I needed to worry about. Something tells me his type might be even worse than the monster I spent my childhood with.
It took me a few days to regain my strength with the amount of propofol Margot and Tom injected into me.
Jonathan, being Jonathan, admitted me to a private clinic. When I told him there was no need, he gave me that look — the one that says ‘you don’t get to argue with me when it comes to your health’ — and I eventually kept my mouth shut.
Layla came over, brought me her mum’s couscous and hugged me to death. I joked, telling her maybe I should get hurt more often so she’d hug me. That earned me harsh glares from both her and Jonathan.
Ethan and Agnus showed up, too, and for the first time, Jonathan didn’t kick Ethan out. It might have something to do with how I begged him not to, but I believe this is a start to rekindle their friendship. I meant it when I told Ethan I’d help.
Aiden, Levi, Elsa, and Astrid visited, too. The boys were shocked about Margot’s involvement, considering that they’ve known her their entire lives, but after a one-on-one talk with Jonathan, they seemed to have accepted it.
My nephew begrudgingly said he’s glad I’m safe, and by begrudgingly, I mean, everyone said it first, then stared at him so he’d follow.
Aiden and I might have started off on the wrong foot, but I have faith in the future. After all, we’re the people Alicia loved the most. I cropped the clip of her last moments and sent him the part where she said she loved him so much.
Elsa’s eyes filled with tears as he listened and re-listened to that part. I think both he and I needed that goodbye from Alicia. Jonathan knew what my sister’s opinion of him was before her death, the part where she thought he was poisoning her, and that she forgave him. I could tell he didn’t like that she had those thoughts about him, but on the other hand, the closure gave him and Aiden a much-needed fresh start.
They’re revisiting their father and son relationship that was basically non-existent after Alicia’s death.
The small cropped parts are the only thing Jonathan and Aiden heard — I would never let them listen to the entire clip of her death. I’ll bury that painful experience between me and Maxim.
My father got attacked that night by Shelby. He was saved at the very last minute by a guard and he’s currently in a coma that he might never wake up from.
When I learnt the news, I didn’t grieve or feel sad. I didn’t feel relief either. I’d already mourned my father, so whether he stays alive or dies doesn’t really make much of a difference to me.
It’s ironic that he tortured people until they died slowly, and now, he might receive the same treatment. He’s neither dead nor alive — just floating in between.
Due to that fact, the parole case was dropped, and I didn’t have to stand in trial. The media attention slowly withered away after Maxim’s attack. The victims’ families who were thirsty for justice all these years stopped protesting, too.
I’m slowly but surely getting back my life. Layla