I’d known. And that was why I trusted that eventually, one day, the goodness inside him would win. That he wouldn’t remain as awful as he had.
A childish hope and finally, it had come true.
Only for him to die.
“Kite...before I go...I want to do something to right my mistakes.” His voice ached with sorrow. “Something to protect you all from the instructions I set beyond the grave.”
If I didn’t sense his sincerity, I wouldn’t have believed he could feel so much regret. But he did—mountains of it. Chasms of it. He truly hated what he’d done. To everyone, not just to Jasmine and me but also to Nila and Kes and Daniel. And Rose. Most of all Rose.
I stared at him. He wanted something...something to...
“A piece of paper? Is that what you need?”
Cut smiled crookedly. “You always were a mind reader.”
“Even when you tried to beat it out of me.”
The truth in our words was just that.Truth. Not judgement or accusation. Just a statement of what was.
Cut nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” Climbing wearily to my feet, I moved toward the large table with implements of destruction and opened a rickety draw. Inside, I found a mouse-chewed notepad and a gnawed-on pencil.
Taking both back to my father, I sat back down and passed them to him.
He tried to take them, but his arms wouldn’t work. The tendons failing to transmit instructions.
He sighed. “You’ll have to do it.”
He didn’t lay blame. Just spoke the facts. He accepted his punishment and didn’t hate me—if anything, he was grateful to have paid for his trespasses.
“What do you want me to write?”
He took a deep breath, thinking.
Finally, he recited, “I, Bryan ‘Vulture’ Hawk, do solemnly pledge my death is justified and accepted. I renounce all former decree that if my death is judged as murder that my firstborn heir, Jethro ‘Kite’ Hawk, is cut from my will. I revoke the agreements in place to send him to Sunny Brook Mental Institute and rescind all further instruction dealing with my daughter and other inheritors.”
His voice hitched, but he forced through his body’s shortcomings to relay his final message. “On this day, I draw forth a new Will and Testament with Jethro Hawk as my witness and true heir that all lands, estates, titles, and fortune pass to him upon my demise. This is binding and unchangeable.”
A ball lodged in my throat as Cut shifted awkwardly. “Hold the paper and help me grab the pencil.”
Swallowing hard, I wrapped his fingers around the pencil and hovered it in place on the newly written Will. I didn’t know if it would stand up in a court of law, but we had paid lawyers on our side. Marshall, Backham, and Cole would ensure the paperwork would be lodged and executed. And then I would destroy their practice so they would never serve law to monsters such as my family again.
Cut grunted in agony as he signed his name; his signature almost illegible. Remembering what else lived in this barn, I hauled myself to my feet for the second time. “Wait there.”
I returned with a handheld video recorder and new battery that’d been stored in the safe away from vermin. I didn’t let myself remember why there was a recording device in here.
Ripping open the battery casing, I inserted it into the device, and turned it on.
The first thing that came up was the last filmed event.
Me.
Stored in this tiny recorder was what happened once Jasmine’s back had been broken. I remembered the day in crystal clarity. It was never Cut’s intention to hurt his daughter so much.
The video unspooled, crackling with sound.
Jasmine looked at me. “Kite...I can’t feel my legs.”
