Chapter 13 - The Trial of the Remnant
""You built this room,"" Clara hissed, floating closer until her feet touched the murky water of the trench. ""You bought the toys. You put the remote in his hand so you could imagine him playing with you. You kept me sedated so I wouldn't scream your name to the police.""
Toby walked to the edge of the pit, standing beside his mother. He held the remote up, pointing it straight at Mark’s forehead.
""Shh,"" the boy whispered.
The word reverberated with deafening power, pressing Mark’s chest down against the wet soil. The weight of his guilt manifested as gravity, pinning him to the earth.
""I’m sorry,"" Mark choked out through a mouthful of dirt and tears. ""I’m sorry, Clara. I wanted to fix it. I wanted to give you the life we were supposed to have. Just one good day. Just one afternoon where you were resting and he was alive and I was a father.""
Jax stepped forward, kneeling beside Mark. The older man’s tough exterior was entirely gone; his eyes were filled with ancient, unhealable sorrow.
""You can't buy back a life with a daydream, kid,"" Jax said softly, placing a heavy hand on Mark’s trembling shoulder. ""The road ends here. You have to let them close the door.""
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Mark looked up through his tears. Clara’s face had softened slightly, the demonic fury fading into a look of profound, unbearable exhaustion. She reached out her pale, translucent hand toward Mark, not to strike him, but to touch his forehead.
""It’s cold, Mark,"" she whispered, a tear tracing a clean path through the grime on her cheek. ""Let us sleep.""
