“I know, but I must be unfair to you one last time.” He came to stand behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. “I need you to be strong for me, Jonah. I have no right asking you for anything, but I am begging you to show me and my brother this mercy.”
Like the mercy they have shown me?
My stomach swirled, sweat breaking across my skin. Knowing that the dying man in front of me deserved it didn’t make it easier, though I wished it had. “How… how should I do it?”
“I have a syringe. Inject him with—”
“No.” The Director cleared his throat. “No evidence. We can’t risk anyone finding out what happened. Use a pillow. I have barely any air left in my useless lungs as it is.”
Eliot sighed behind me. “Jonah?”
I gave a stiff nod. The decision had been made; the details were irrelevant. I would be leaving this room with blood on my hands, and if Eliot ended up lying about helping me find Hayden, I might have more blood on them soon.
Eliot went to kiss The Director's forehead. “Until we see each other again, brother.”
“Take your time. I can wait.”
Eliot went to the closet and pulled out a pillow, staring at it before saying, “Oh my. This is really happening.” He looked at me with glossy eyes. “Please take this pillow, Jonah. I’m afraid my feet are refusing to move.”
My own feet were also not cooperative, but I managed the few steps I needed. I took the pillow from him and walked to stand next to the bed. The Director tried to meet my eyes, but I hissed,“Don’t look at me.”
“I’m proud of you, Jonah, and I am sorry for everything.”
I wanted to call him a liar, but I couldn’t because I believed him. I shut my eyes to control my nerves, and in the darkness of my mind, his old office emerged, with the fireplace and the long leather couch. The bottles of expensive wine and the chessboard he used to love. And among all those things was I, hating this man yet unable to deny the safety his presence had provided.
It made me hate him even more.
I opened my eyes, my throat tight. “You should’ve said no. When he asked you to take me, you should’ve said no.”
He looked away. “I know.”
Eliot moved to stand by the foot of the bed, his face pale and his palms gripping tightly to the railing. He was going to witness this.
There was nothing more to say. I wished for this to be easy, but it took everything I had to press down the pillow until it was over.
*
I sat on a wooden bench outside, waiting for Eliot to finish whatever one does in this situation. By the time he finally came out, the sun had begun to descend. I looked away from the hollowness in his eyes, pushing down the urge to say something comforting.
He sat next to me and leaned with his elbows on his knees. “Lovely people. They are sad to say goodbye to Thomas.”
I always knew his name, but it never felt right to call him anything other than The Director.
Eliot pulled out a thin metal box from his pants pocket. “Want one?” I took a cigarette and waited for him to light it for me. We smoked in silence as employees from the hospice began to leave, chatting like there wasn’t a corpse lying close by.
Once we finished smoking, I said, “I’m listening.”
Eliot turned on the bench to face me. He seemed exhausted yet focused. “Amanda’s your key.”
“Amanda?” My anger flared. “I already know where she is. I was going to speak with her anyway. Is that your help?”
“Calm down. What were you planning on doing?”
“Try to find out what she knows.”
“Didn’t Hayden try that?”
I hesitated. “He did.”
