Page 37 of Swan

“Mary, please. Look at me, darling.”

“You can’t have him,” she told me.

“I don’t want her, Mary.”

“He’s mine,” she spat. “They said he’ll be mine.”

Who said?

“Mary. I told you I can be yours.”

Tears filled her eyes and fell. “But he loves you. He won’t love me until you’re gone.”

“Mary, please, just look at me.”

“I see it now. I can hear his fear when it’s for you.” She nodded. “He loves you.” She smiled. “But he’ll love me when you’re gone.”

The door to the side swung open, and Dad stood in the doorway.

His eyes widened.

A gun fired.

Wetness sprayed my face as I closed my eyes.

Where was the pain?

Wasn’t there supposed to be pain when shot?

There was a groan.

I opened my eyes to Lockland standing in front of me.

My tears welled.

Red coated his chest.

“No!” I screamed, my heart cracking wide open.

Lockland smiled down at me. Blood dripped from his mouth as he choked over the words, “Love you, Swan.”

Another scream tore out of me as his body dropped to the floor. My throat felt ripped open; I closed a hand around it, whimpering.

No, no, no. No!

Blood. There was too much.

I wanted to reach out, to touch and shake him awake, but all I could do was stare.

Blood.

Everywhere.

His eyes were closed. No breaths. No movements.

Warm hands wrapped around my arms, whispered words in my ear.

Dad.

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