Even when I'm gone

Epilogue

“In the wake of death,

a monster was born.

His name was Karma,

and he craved revenge.”

—Oliver Masters

Ethan.

THERE WAS FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF. Psychologists had fucking figured it out in five bloody stages. I had passed denial a long time ago, but never reached bargaining—stuck in a continuous cycle of Anger.

Anger, my most trusted and loyal friend. I could count on Anger. It was there when I woke up. It was there when I closed my eyes. Anger even took me in my sleep. The rage had become a part of me—a monster—and I fed that bloody beast every godforsaken day.

Sixteen Months Ago

It had been a year since I’d walked up the steps of Dolor, but it seemed like just yesterday I saw her face.

“Don’t you look snazzy in your new uniform,” Livy says. “Are you egg-cited? I’m so proud of you.” Her hand grabs mine as she always did to get my attention, and a small smile washes over her face as she looks up at me with matching blue eyes. Her use of egg-cited started one year on Easter when we were younger, but it had bled into an all year thing between the two of us.

I know Livy is proud of me, but I’m mad at her at the moment. She was taking off to a reformatory school to get help. She said I wouldn’t understand, but one day I would. And all I see now as she smiles up at me in admiration is the fact she did not trust me enough to confide in me. We were supposed to be family. We were supposed to be in this shit together.

The least I could have done was thank her, smile, or given her a lick of appreciation or acknowledgement, but I had walked away, holding onto a fucking grudge against her.

A bloody fucking year.

If only I’d known what I knew now.

I waited outside the door for Lynch, when, finally, the door creaked open and he greeted me with an outstretched hand. It took me a second to swallow the beast inside and shake his hand—it took everything. Even while shaking his hand, I wanted to snap his wrist for not doing the one thing he’d promised: Keep Livy safe.

“Mia is important to me,” he had said over the phone when he had called me for help about a matter. I hadn’t spoken to the chap since Livy’s death, and he had the nerve to call me with a favor. I should’ve told him to go fuck himself. Livy had been important to me, too. She had been in his care, his responsibility. He was supposed to help Livy. She was the only family I had left, and here I fucking am, back at Dolor because he needed me.

Little did Lynch know, I had other plans in mind.

My heart warned me with every step I took up the stairs as I followed Lynch. It told me it would leave me too if I continued this path of vengeance, but the monster inside shut that bastard up.

Side by side, we walked past Livy’s old wing. I turned my eyes away, anything to lessen the blow and shield myself from the memories threatening to resurrect. I’d kept those memories locked up, but now the monster inside pounded against my skull, rattling in its cage, thirsty for redemption.

Not yet, my dear friend. Your time will come.

Livy’s death had reminded me there were no second chances. No rewinds. No going back in time to erase the damage. You only have one chance, and I’d missed it by a long shot.

Late, without so much as a decent excuse.

The pressure stacked heavier with each long stride down Livy’s old wing. My hands fisted at my sides, and Lynch stopped in front of the nurse’s station. “Her name is Mia. She has no idea I’m her father,” he warned me in a hushed tone. “I prefer to keep it that way.”

“I understand,” I complied. Livy was my sister, and I preferred for her to be alive today, but we didn’t always get what we wanted.

The door opened.

We walked through.

Mia laid there, withdrawn and dazed, clutching a phone in her hand. A large cut sliced through her eyebrow and she parted her cracked and bruised lip. Caramel-brown eyes studied me, waiting for a reaction. I fought to maintain the fact this was Lynch’s daughter, and I shouldn’t care, but the animal inside quieted at the sight of her. This girl scared him, too. I dropped my eyes to the floor so she couldn’t see what her stare did to me. At least until I’d figured it out for myself.

Lynch spoke first and introduced me. I stayed quiet at his side.

She asked about a friend before making demands, then had the audacity to throw in a few jabs at Lynch’s credibility as a dean. I laughed a little inside.

This girl was a storm.

I immediately wanted to know everything there was about her, and how she was able to control my anger when I’d spent months trying to pack its shit and move it out.

After watching the evidence Mia had captured on video, the monster inside me awakened. “Mind if I ask you a few more questions?” I asked as I bagged the phone.

Mia, despite her situation, was intimidating. When she looked at me, she looked through me. Her eyes violated me, frisked me for weapons, and rendered me defenseless—with just one fucking look. I had to know more. I had to know how she carried the same jaded look in her eyes as my sister had, and still be here when my sister wasn’t. How had Mia gotten this far?

Mia’s ability to tell her story with only a few shed tears was impressive, considering I was the one who had to pause her, close my eyes, and prepare for impact. Every similarity was a punch to the gut. She mentioned her uncle and what he had done to her. She mentioned her mom, and the way she had left her. And the only family she had, shipped her to Dolor.

Mia and I were one in the same, aside from the fact she was able to obliterate the anger inside just by her presence.

I’ll be back, Mia.

We said our goodbyes, and as I walked away, she grabbed my hand.

By the single touch of her hand, I froze. The monster froze. I’d never been so nervous, and I found the will to turn to face her.

“I’m sorry about your sister, Ethan. She would be so proud of you,” Mia said, and squeezed my hand. That was all it took for me to know I had to see my plans through.

For Livy. For Mia. For justice.

“Why don’t you want her to know?” I asked Lynch back at his office. I leaned back in the chair and rested my elbows over the armrests, bringing my pointer fingers to my mouth. Lynch absentmindedly rolled a pen between his palms in deep thought, wondering which version he wanted to spit my way.

Try me, Lynch. I may have been a horrible brother, but I was a walking lie detector.

“She’s smart,” he finally said. Truth. “She will use it against me during her time here. I’ll tell her, but not until her last day. It has to be her choice in whether or not she wants to accept it. It has to be because I’m not the dean of the school she’s attending, but because she honestly wants to be a part in my life.”

I sat back in the chair and scratched my jaw. “How long have you known?” I asked and held my arms out to the side. “That she is your daughter. How long?” Where were you while her uncle was raping her? Where were you when her mother took her life? Where were you the last nineteen years of her life? What was your fucking excuse? Was it the same as mine?

“Eight months,” Lynch scoffed. “Bruce, her father, reached out to me about eight months ago. Told me what happened with her mum, laid a shit storm on me, and confessed I had a daughter. He said Mia needed help. I didn’t believe him at first, but then he sent me the original birth certificate. When she first arrived, I had her blood drawn.” He tossed the pen over the desk. “She’s mine, Ethan. That little girl in there?” he pointed up, where Mia laid above us, “She’s my daughter. You’re the only one I trust to protect her. Lord knows Livy had gone through hell and back, and I’m sorry for what happened to Livy. I know I should’ve checked up on you after she died. I should have been there for you. But I failed and I was scared to face my failures. I can’t have the same thing happen to Mia that happened to your sister. If anyone understands, it’s you. You’re the only one who can do this job. I need you to keep an eye on her. Watch her every move.”