It was penance.
My whole life, I’ve been running from this.
“Valen, please. I need you to get up.” There’s a demand in Clover’s tone as Chief attempts to help me rise, but it’s as though I’ve forgotten how my limbs work.
“We have to move, son. Now,” Chief says, his fear registering in the back of my mind. It’s what has me blinking hard as Terra inches her way closer, but I still can’t move.
Every person I saved was supposed to balance the scales. Every rescue, every extraction, every life pulled back from the brink. If I saved enough people, maybe the heaviness in my chest would lift.
But it was never enough. It could never be enough, because you can’t save your way out of being a killer.
“This is what haunted you at night,” Terra says, almost gently. “I always wondered if you made the connection. Vivian certainly did. She was always trying to ruin every good thing in my life. That’s when I knew. Clover was the key to keeping you, to hurting Vivian the way she always hurt me. I just didn’t expect you to be so fucking weak. Always worried about other people. Protecting Clover like it was your damn job.”
She’s right. I’ve felt protective of Clover since the moment I first saw her.
“Valen, please get up,” Clover pleads, her voice is closer now. My memories are reorganizing and categorizing themselves in my mind as if they were never missing.
Her hand reaches toward me, but I flinch away as if she burned me.
She can’t touch me. Not now. Not when these hands—the hands that held her, cradled her face, traced her skin—are the same hands that killed her mother and father.
“Don’t.” My voice is a ragged whisper. “Don’t touch me.”
The hurt that flashes across her face nearly kills me.
She doesn’t listen. She’s not retreating. She’s not rebuilding walls. Even now, even with this impossible truth between us, she’s still reaching for me.
“Valen.” Her voice cuts through the static in my head. “Look at me.” I force my eyes to meet hers, expecting hatred, preparing for the pain I’ll find.
Instead, I see tears—and beneath them, understanding.
“Useless,” Terra snarls. I’ve lost track of her. My one job and I’m failing. Again.
“You were eight years old,” Clover whispers. “You were a child. She used you, just like she used me.” She cradles my face,and even though every instinct screams that I don’t deserve her touch, I can’t pull away. “We’re both victims, Valen. Both of us.”
“Get up, son,” Chief mumbles again.
The sob that tears from my chest doesn’t sound human. She’s offering me grace I don’t deserve.
“I’m so sorry,” I choke out. “I’m so fucking sorry, Clover. I would take it back. I would give anything—” My voice breaks, turning raw and bleeding.
She pulls my forehead to hers, and we sit there, both of us shattered, both of us somehow still here.
“Roman. Now. Move now.” My voice is broken gravel, cutting on each word.
I’m the reason Clover is an orphan.
She thought if she stayed small enough, hidden enough, controlled enough, she’d be safe.
I thought if I saved enough people, protected enough, that maybe I’d earn my place in this world. That maybe I’d finally get rid of the weight that was suffocating me.
But you can’t control who breaks your heart, and you can’t save your way to redemption when you’re the one who caused the destruction.
She can’t hide from this truth, and I can’t save her from it.
We’re both completely exposed, and there’s nowhere left to run.
“I didn’t know.” Even as I say it, I know it doesn’t matter. My hands killed her parents.
