76. Chapter 76
Ezra
I’m selfish and desperate. That’s what I remember in these final moments.
“You won’t feel a thing,” Miss Zagan coos. She’s kind, unlike the others. How did a gentle, cordial soul like her wind up with the most conniving, infamous trafficking network in the States? “This will be swift.”
I was never a good person.
“Relax for me, please.”
Smoke slithers through my nostrils. I feel a deep want to succumb to its hazy sensation. Around me, Angela Barclay and her men wear oxygen masks. High-tech. State-of-the-art. The masks will protect them from the effects of smoke. Not me. I don’t get a happy ending.
I was selfish and desperate. Of course, I don’t deserve a happy ending.
“Find where the others fled to! We have enough in our possession—kill the rest.”
“Don’t listen to them, dear. Pay attention to me. We’re almost done,” Miss Zagan says.
Conin and Atlas are not dead. They’re not, no matter how much Thax tries to manipulate me. They’ll have a happy ending, but I won’t. I don’t deserve one.
“How do you feel, Ezra?” Miss Zagan asks.
“Tired,” I say.
I am so, so tired. Let me sleep. Let me forget. It’ll be better if I forget.
I can’t see the sun anymore. There’s too much smoke. Perhaps it’s better that way. Everything’s so fucking bright, even when the pitch-black tendrils enshroud the sky.
“You can rest, dear. If you’re tired, rest,” Miss Zagan whispers. Sweet. Cool. Not calloused with malicious intent.
I was selfish. Desperate.
Sleep. Sleep will help.
“How do you feel now?” Miss Zagan asks.
“I . . .” My body is numb. Everything’s so bright. So fucking bright. “I can’t feel anything.”
“Don’t worry, dear. That’s normal. You’ll be okay,” Miss Zagan says.
I believe her.
“We’re almost done, Ezra. You’re doing so good,” Miss Zagan coos.
Finally. Something I’ve done right. I always mess shit up. But she said I’m doing good. We’re almost done. Then I can sleep. I’m so tired.
I was a terrible excuse for a son. I was a terrible excuse for a brother.
Thax wanted what I had, what I couldn’t give up, even if I tried.
Thax wanted to take out all his pent-up anger on me: negligence from parents, our untreated mental health issues, our displacement in the world.
Neither of us belonged, but I received the blunt end of it.
Always me. His pain became mine. I bore the burden of our pain. Me.
I held Conin back. He had a scholarship.
A team. A writing career to look forward to.
I stripped it from him. I stripped those dreams and aspirations and squashed them.
My burdens became his. He felt the need to chase after me.
He felt the need to protect me. But here we are.
What was the point of his sacrifices if I’m dead anyway?
At least he has Atlas. At least he has someone who won’t disappoint him.
Imagine if I lived longer. Imagine all the hurt Atlas would go through because of me. This is for the best. Of course, it is.
Just know I loved you both.
I love you.
“Ezra, are you still with me?”
I can no longer speak.
“Oh, dear. It’s okay. Rest now. You’re allowed to rest.”
Thank you.