Page 78 of The Serpent King

“Are you looking at baby pictures of me?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Have you been doing this since the funeral?”

“With a break here and there. Are you okay, sweetie?”

“I miss him.”

“I bet. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. My heart hurts, Daddy.” She wiped a tear from her cheek before it could reach her dad’s shoulder.

“Mine does too. We’re here for you if and when you feel like talking.” He drew Lydia closer to him and she buried her face in his chest. “We raised you here precisely so you’d never have to deal with something like seeing one of your friends get hurt. And then this happens. I’m an idiot. We should have moved right to the middle of Manhattan to raise you.”

“Dad. You didn’t know.”

“We made the wrong trade-offs. We made the wrong choices. We tried. You need to know that. We tried to raise you the best we could. I’m sorry.”

“I know that. If you hadn’t raised me here, I’d never have gotten to know Travis at all. Like you said that time.”

“I don’t know what would happen if I ever lost you. It would destroy me.”

“You won’t.”

“I want you to be careful in this world. My heart is wrapped up in you.”

“I will.”

After a long while, Lydia stood to go upstairs.

She hadn’t made it more than a few feet when her dad called after her. “Lydia?”

She turned around.

“If I had bought all of Travis’s wood that day, would he still be alive?” His voice sounded hollow and far away, like he was asking the question under great duress on behalf of someone who didn’t want to know the answer.

“Are you asking me if you killed Travis?”

“Yes.”

“No. I don’t think you killed Travis. I think it was the two men who killed Travis who killed Travis. And I don’t think you should absolve them even a little bit by accepting any responsibility.”

He tried to smile, mostly without success. “Thank you,” he said softly. He went back to looking at the photo album, and Lydia went upstairs.

She was sapped. She lay on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her phone buzzed.

Ugh, drama with Patrick. So over high school boys, Dahlia texted.

Lydia felt actual physical revulsion at the banality of Dahlia’s problems in the great scope of things. Not that it was Dahlia’s fault. Lydia realized she hadn’t told her. Not telling anyone about Travis was just a reflex.

Can’t talk right now. Lost a friend, she texted.

OMG, as in died?

Yes.

OMG, so sorry, love. You ok?