Page 69 of Some Saviors Can Break You

“You never did either,” he said, taking a step toward her. “You had to fight just to stay alive, you had to take care of yourself because your mother sure as hell wasn't. You had to work two jobs to put yourself through college, and you still work long hours just to pay your bills. I know what that’s like. To just want to take a break, to just lie down, close your eyes, and rest.”

“Like the girls. You put them to sleep so they could forever be peaceful children. They’d never have to grow up, never have to work for anything, they got to be little forever. You gave them the life you wished you’d had.”

He’d never thought of it that way before, but there was a lot of truth to what Florence was saying.

As far back as he could remember, all he had wanted was rest.

Just to sleep in in the morning and not have to be up and at the restaurant to help before school. After school there was no hanging out with friends, no sports practice, it was working at the restaurant, homework, then bed. Weekends were more of the same, schoolwork and work.

Work.

Work.

Work.

All he’d needed was a break.

A break that had never come.

He’d never had a childhood, so he’d gifted those little girls with a childhood that would last forever. No growing old, no responsibility, no work, they got to stay little forever, the best years of their life would never end for them.

But he’d failed Florence.

He hadn't given her eternal peace.

Instead, she had gone on to continue living in poverty, going hungry, no electricity or running water, no one to care for her and look after her.

He hadn't saved her.

Her continued suffering was on him.

That was something he needed to rectify.

“Put the gun down, Toby. You’ve been so careful to make sure that this didn't end with you in prison, you don’t want to do that to your family. You’ve taken care of them, provided for them, made sure that they would never find out the truth about you. Don’t ruin that now.”

His family would never find out the truth.

The cops had nothing to pin on him, and there would be no way for them to connect him to Eli Lennox’s murder.

“No one will know it was me,” he said.

“That’s not true, Toby,” Florence said. “We have something, you left a fingerprint behind when you were here the other morning. Sooner or later, they will connect that fingerprint to you, and when they do everything you’ve worked so hard your whole life to build will fall apart. The best thing you can do for yourself and your family is to turn yourself in, don’t make it worse for your wife and children by spending the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.”

The cops having his fingerprints sealed things in his mind.

He was done.

Finished.

What he wanted was standing right before him, and he was taking it.

7:17 A.M.

He wasn't going to do it.

He wasn't going to put the gun down.

Florence could see it in his eyes.

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