Epilogue
Cassi
The bomb of Carly killing Nico’s mother shocked us all, and when someone at the department leaked the story, the news outlets had a field day with it.
When Nico had explained his mother’s disapproval of Carly, their constant arguments over Carly’s true intentions and the out of the blue cardiac arrest on an otherwise relatively healthy woman, it was like puzzle pieces clicking together.
The police immediately re-opened the case and though the foxglove didn’t appear in her toxicology report, the case was closed, listing it a homicide. The betrayal nearly tore Nico in two. He’s been in therapy every day since then. I have too, because I’m equally not okay.
When my parents arrived in Boston, they called me frantically with an update and I couldn’t hold the truth from them. The cry my mother let out is one that will haunt me for years to come.
I met my parents at the hospital, but I didn’t recognize them.
They looked like a shell of themselves, numbly going through the motions as they stepped through those doors.
When the doctor informed them of Carly’s cause of death, and Nico supplemented that the drink was intended for me, my mother collapsed with grief.
She cried out for her baby while simultaneously holding me in what felt like protection.
Since that day, things have felt…off between us. They don’t blame me for what happened to Carly, of course. She tried to kill me and ended up killing herself by mistake. That’s a situation that carries too many emotions to even begin to name. At least, that’s what my therapist tells me.
More tension came between my parents and I when I told them that I would not be returning to Seattle.
It’s not that they don’t approve of Nico, quite the opposite actually.
They just never really got time to process the idea of us together.
It went from him dating my sister to being fake engaged to her to being outed that we’d been sneaking around to my sister trying to kill me and inadvertently dying.
It's been an emotional and dramatic few weeks to say the least.
My parents had a funeral for Carly in Seattle and I did go with Nico, Arianna and Naomi by my side.
It was somber day, filled with complicated feelings.
Especially when we added in the piece about Carly also being Nico’s mother’s murderer, only for the reason that we can assume she was standing in the way of her and Nico’s long term relationship. For good reason, I’m sure.
It was an odd feeling, sitting at the funeral of my almost murderer.
Even more odd when considering the fact that inside that casket laid my sister’s decaying corpse.
The sister I grew up with, shared holidays and birthdays and family vacations with.
The one that hated me as much as I her…then again, maybe more.
Despite our differences, I could have never imagined even wanting to take her life away, let alone doing it.
So for her to be so ready to do so to me…
I …I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to move past that.
I feel equal parts and angry and relieved that she is out of my life. How terrible am I? My therapist diagnosed me with severe PTSD, anxiety and depression. No surprise there.
When I was in Seattle for the funeral, I quit my job and dropped out of college. Some would say I was making radical changes to capture some sort of control on my life, and maybe they are right. The decisions felt good, though, and I don’t regret them for a moment.
Nico arranged everything for me and had all of my things set to the Brownstone where we have begun living full time. During a time that should feel happy and blissful, I hate to admit, those feelings aren’t a part of our day to day. You know what ones are, though?
Healing. Safety. Comfort. Warmth.
We give as much as we take from one another, a true partnership in it’s most beautiful form and despite the absolute hell we have been through, and continue to live through, we make each other better, happier. One day at a time.