“I’m sorry.”
Was she imagining it? It almost sounded like the wind.
Ellis half-turned; his profile was briefly illuminated, his cheeks streaked with tears.
“I’m…so sorry…”
“Sorry won’t bring Danny back.” Ana didn’t know where the words came from, just that she had to say it. They couldn’t be here, at the end of everything, and not remember who this had all begun with. Her brother. Ellis’s friend and lover. Somehow, throughout everything that they had been through in the past day and a half, Danny had always been there, standing between the two of them—the missing link.
Ellis nodded; he was crying. She watched as he sobbed, his powerful frame bent and cowed by his grief. There was nothing for her to say. This was on Ellis; this was his shame and regret. His pain. He needed to feel this. Heneededto.
For several moments they stood there, lit from above, as though on an empty stage. Time was finally slowing down—she could feel it. No more countdowns. No more endings. Just the rest of their lives stretching ahead, for better or for worse.
As Ellis’s tears subsided, he sniffed and wiped his arm across his face.
“For what it’s worth…I loved him too.” Ellis’s voice was soft; he kept his eyes fixed on the ground. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he nodded to himself as if he had decided something. Slowly, he turned away from her, away from the diner, and started walking towards the dark road.
Ana watched his retreating back. She could just let him go. It was what he deserved after everything he’d done, after all the grief and pain he’d caused. She owed him nothing.
But for the last time that day, she heard it—the question that was always with her:what would Danny do?Only this time, she already knew the answer. With one hundred percent certainty, she knew.
Her resolve strengthened. She took a deep breath. She knew what to do, she just needed the strength to do it. For Danny.
“You can come back from this, Ellis,” Ana said. Her voice caught in the night air.
Ellis stopped, head down, and turned to face her.
“No…I can’t.” He was holding something in his hand. Almost gently, he held it out for her to see. The twenty-dollar bill. “I can’t come back fromthis, Ana—from what I did a year ago, or from what I did here—fromwho I am. I can never come back from this.” He sounded broken.
Ana looked at him. His gray eyes were unnaturally soft and clouded with remorse. The angry energy was gone. There was just Ellis.
It was time. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it had to be done. They had to end this cycle once and for all.
“Can’t you?” She reached into the pocket of her jeans. Unlocking her cellphone, she tossed it to him lightly. His baller instincts kicked in and he caught it in the air with ease. Holding it in his hand, he looked at the phone, then at Ana, shock on his face.
Their eyes held. They stood, together but apart, on the gas-stained concrete. This is what it had all come to. This one final play in the game. This one final act.
The ball was in his court now.
With nothing left to say, Ana turned away.
The exhaustion was backbone-deep. She felt like she could lie down on the concrete right here and sleep for a hundred years. She walked back to the diner, pausing only when she reached the door, unable to resist the urge to look back one last time.
Her cellphone lay on the concrete where Ellis had been standing—the crumpled twenty-dollar bill on the ground next to it.
Ellis was gone.
This was an ending of sorts, for Ellis, at least. Whether he’d deleted the phone recording or not—it was done, his future had been set in motion. He had his second chance.
Would he have the courage to face what he had done, to take responsibility for the fire and for all the pain he had caused in his desperate fight for survival? Would he have the strength to change, to grow from this and become a better person? Would he ever forgive himself, or was this the start of a life filled with bitter anger and denial? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. The one thing she did know—the one thing that mattered—was that it was up to Ellis now.
His call. His choice. His life.
The wind caught at the twenty-dollar bill, lifting it lightly into the air, before tumbling it back down on the concrete, flipping it over, stealing it away. Ana watched as it made its slow journey, out of the circle of light, heading for the endless desert, heading into darkness.
There were no winners here. Not today.
The game was finally over.
