“Adelmo, please.” I looked at what remained of the man I’d once loved. “Prez is already dead. Maybe that’s enough.”
“Are you sorry the man who strangled your sister is no longer alive?” he asked.
When I thought I had been the one who killed Prez, was I sorry? I had been horrified at first. But later? Later I felt nothing at all.
“That’s not the point. The point is shooting Ben like this would be straight-up murder. And I don’t want to be a part of it.”
“That’s right, babe.” Ben reentered the conversation. “You’re not a killer. Stella wouldn’t want you to become one either. She—”
Adelmo backhanded him again. “Do not speak her name!” He shouted and raised his hand to strike him again. I held his arm.
“Enough!” I shouted, startling both Adelmo and myself. “I hate saying this, but he’s right. Stella wouldn’t want me to become the kind of person who could condone putting a bullet in an unarmed man, no matter how disgusting he might be. I want to take our chances with the police. Didn’t you say it was for me to decide?”
That wasn’t exactly what Adelmo had said, but I hoped he didn’t remember.
“You are a good person, Grace. Stella told me you were, but I had trouble understanding how such a good person could not be more forgiving. Now I do. There are some things we cannot forgive.”
“But I was wrong not to forgive Stella, and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life. Please, don’t make me live with this.” I pointed to Ben.
Adelmo sighed and put the gun back in his waistband. “I understand.” He guided me into the front room. Outside the narrow window, the sky had grown dark, and I wondered how long I’d been a guest at Adelmo’s little house of horrors. The clock on the dusty microwave read five ten. That was the moment the first rumble of thunder sounded.
Adelmo opened the door and surveyed the clouds. “I believe we are in for a very bad storm. If you and Marco leave now, you might make it down the mountain before the rain comes full force.”
“But aren’t you and Ben coming?”
“Ah, my sweet Grace. You should know your sister never doubted you would forgive her. She said you were the only one she ever cared about letting down, and she vowed to become the kind of woman you could love again and respect for the first time.”
I wiped my eyes and looked away in the distance where an arrow of light burst through the dark clouds. A rumble of thunder followed. The storm was getting closer.
“I am not such a good person. Your sister understood this and loved me despite it. But it was family Stella valued more than anything. She had to return home to show you how much she had grown. I wanted her to stay, but circumstances changed, and it wasn’t safe for her to remain here with me, so I agreed to let her go.”
Marco watched us from a distance, and Adelmo called out to him in Spanish. He got into the car and started the engine.
“And now you must go. I will remain here with my guest a little longer. Then I will leave the country for a short time. Perhaps I may someday visit you in your lovely country and see where my beautiful Stella was once so happy.”
A shaft of lightning split the air, and I screamed as the accompanying thunderbolt sounded. Marco stepped from the car, leaving the engine running. The man who loved my sister more than life kissed me on the cheek and walked toward the trailer. I tried to run after him, but Marco wrapped an arm around my waist and held me.
“Please, Señorita,” he said. “We must go. It is not safe to stay here out in the open.”
As if on cue, rain pelted the ground, creating instant puddles. Three bolts of lightning shot across the sky in brief terrifying intervals, and thunder blasted. I slipped out of Marco’s grip and stumbled onto the ground. He reached down to help me, and a blinding flash of light illuminated the air, bringing with it a scorching heat that rippled through the hair on my arms and neck. It hovered overhead. I could smell bitter smoke almost at the same time resounding thunder deafened me. Then there was darkness.
Chapter 33
Sparks flickered against a black velvet surface where I lay listening to faraway voices. What I thought was thunder was more a thumping sound, as if something heavy were being dragged across a wooden floor. I focused on the pinpricks of illumination and discovered it was the jar of fireflies Stella and I captured on the night Rita and Lesroy came running into the house with Uncle Roy in hot pursuit. In all the excitement and the culminating storm, we forgot to set them free.
Stella’s solid little body lay beside me in Gran’s bed. I eased out from under the quilt. The gentle rhythm of my sister’s breathing remained constant as I slid off the bed and tiptoed to the dresser. The tiny creatures clustered near three holes in the top. Only a few blinked out a farewell light show to the world. I got to them just in time.
I’d forgotten what awakened me until it sounded again, this time more of a shuffling accompanied by an occasional female grunt. Because of Stella’s aversion to complete darkness, the door to wherever she slept was always left ajar. I stepped into the hallway and felt my way toward the living room, stopping at the entrance, where I could see Gran and Mom standing side by side. At first, I thought they were fighting over a coat or jacket. But it wasn’t a jacket they were tugging at. It was Uncle Roy. I thought he was dead, but then he snorted and sniffed in his usual drunken style. A combination of relief and
