Page 129 of Sadistic

Somewhere in this city, Njal is probably sedated, possibly restrained.

Somewhere else, Bembe bleeds from a bullet wound delivered by proxy.

All for me. Allbecauseof me.

The door opens behind me.

I expect Dalla, but it's Mom who sits beside me on the picnic table.

"I failed you," she says right off the bat.

"Mom—"

"No, let me say this." She stares out at the parking lot. "When I found out about the arrangement, I should have taken you both and run. Run for the hills. Run to give you both some sense of a normal life."

"He would have found us."

"Maybe. Or maybe we could have had a different life. A normal life." She laughs bitterly. "I used to dream about it. A little house somewhere quiet. You and Dalla going to regular schools, having regular friends. No threats, no violence, no arranged marriages."

"But you stayed."

"I stayed because I loved him. Love him still, even though his actions make it hard to." She turns to look at me. "And now you're facing the same choice. Stay for love, even when the life that comes with it is impossible."

"Did you ever regret it?"

"Every time someone died. Every time you girls were in danger. Every time I had to pretend the blood on your father's clothes was from working on bikes." She takes my hand. "But also never. Because staying gave me you and Dalla. Gave me a family I'd die for."

"That's not really an answer."

"It's the only answer there is in this life. You take the bad with the good and hope the good outweighs it."

We sit in silence, mother and daughter, both trapped by love for dangerous men.

My phone rings.

It’s Doran.

I almost don't answer, but something makes me swipe accept.

"You're outside," he says before I can get out a word. "That's not safe."

"How did you—" I stop. "Right. Always watching."

"There are two guards in visual range. You're protected." He pauses. "Are you okay?"

"Three people are dead."

"Three people who threatened your family."

"Killed by someone who's sick. Someone we manipulated." I close my eyes. "How do you live with this? The moral flexibility?"

"By focusing on what matters. You're safe. Your family's safe. The wedding can happen without bloodshed."

"Except for the bloodshed that already happened."

"Yes," he agrees simply. "Except for that."

We sit in silence, connected by phones and separated by everything else.

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