“This is none of your concern, Kingston. Your father has given me an order.”
I ignored him as I searched Landon’s face. He stared at the tree in shock, his gaze darting between me, the tree, and his father. Horror etched into every line of his expression, a tragedy written there so long ago finally coming to light.
“Let’s go, Landon. Let me get you out of here.”
I held out my hand, hoping he’d take it, but he didn’t move.
Whirling on his father, I didn’t temper the accusation in my tone. “What did you do? What did you say to him?”
“I told him the truth.”
His father straightened, pushing a hand through his dark, graying hair to tidy it. So similar to his son in image, and yet completely devoid of the virtue his son possessed.
“You dragged him into this mess all those years ago. And he was too weak to resist the pull. He made a traitor out of his mother, and even his pitiful begging couldn’t help him then.” His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head as if I’d disappointed him. “You stood there as we dragged him away, Kingston.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play the hero now, your highness.” He straightened his tie and glanced in the direction where my father stood, waiting by the bell as each girl rang it to finish the course. When he pinned me with his stare, it held triumph. “There’s nothing for my son within these walls, or with you. He’ll come with me before the night ends.”
Without another word, Landon’s father walked over to mine. Right as Quinn rang the bell.
But Landon’s voice, quiet and broken, drew me back to him. “She’s buried there?”
“Yes.” My voice broke, too. “He wanted her there, as a reminder to me. And, if your memory ever returned, as a warning to you.”
“That’s why I’ve always hated it?”
“Landon, I’m so sorry.”
Eyes wide, he shook his head fiercely. He clutched his temples with both hands, gripping his hair and unraveling with the final piece of his memory.
“We killed her.”
“No,” I growled, stepping forward. “No,hekilled her.”
“Because of us.” He lifted his head, dark amber eyes filled with anguish. “She died because she saw us together. Assumed—And you stood there, as I begged you to stop them. As I begged you to save her.”
“Landon, I—” I hung my head as he turned away from me. “I’m sorry. My father would’ve?—”
“She died because I loved you.”
My heart cracked. Splintering over his use of the past tense.
It severed fully as his expression broke, with no trace of recognition for that love remaining within it.
“I can’t be near you right now.”
He stumbled backward, hastily putting distance between us and trying to get away.
“Please let me explain.” I stepped toward him, one hand outstretched as I reached for him.
Palm out without thinking.
He didn’t understand. He didn’t know what my father would’ve done if I’d intervened. If I’d shown a hint of what he meant to me.
I’d believed I had no choice.
I’d believed it was the only way to save him.
