Chapter 30
Thirty
Idrag a hand across my face. Midmorning arrived, and Sebastian is still here, listening to it all, recording and asking questions. He was barely able to contain himself when I talked about MLK, the boycotts, and all the movements, but he listened the entire time.
“I’m so sorry, Nella,” he says, his words comforting. Talking about it makes the pain fresh.
Tears splash down, trailing down my arm. “It was just so unfair. I don’t know why I thought we were above it somehow. When Death said ‘years,’ I thought it would be decades.”
“Did he try to talk to you, at least? Make it right?”
“Not then. If he had . . .” I don’t finish the thought, catching myself in time.
I feel like Death plucked the light out of my life and left me shrouded in darkness, all to force me to give in, his desire to win our bet pushing him to force my hand.
“That’s why this is a curse, Sebastian. I am destined to lose everyone I love, but I’m forced to keep finding evidence that life is worth living. ”
“But does it always have to end that way?”
I pull the wooden sun from the chest, the stain mottled red, deep cracks visible. Does it always have to end that way? That had certainly been the case, though Death had gone to extra trouble with Diego. The carved sun’s old wood glue chips under my fingertips as I turn back to Sebastian.
“Yes, Sebastian. I’ve lived too long for there to be any other conclusion.”
“What happened the next time you saw him?”
I close my eyes at this, remembering the pain.