All of their heads turn in unison to stare at Birgit.
“You guys know each other?” William asks.
Birgit doesn’t answer; she just stares at the man in the wheelchair. Dan notices she’s the only one not holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender. Instead, her hands are by her sides.
“Did you bury my brother like you promised me?” the man goes on.
“No,” Birgit says calmly. “I didn’t.”
“I didn’t think you did,” the man says, breaking into a cough, the barrel of the shotgun jumping a little. “Just like you didn’t spare my son’s life. That was also a lie. Instead, you decided to take them both from me.”
“Sounds like something crazy went down here before we came,” William says, addressing the old man. “I just want you to know, we had nothing to do with—”
“If you open that mouth of yours one more time, I’ll have to blow it off your face, son,” the man says in a voice so calm it bears no relations to the words coming out. He doesn’t take his eyes from Birgit one second. “Silas was a bad boy, at least, he could be. He might have deserved what came for him. Hell, he probably even brought it on himself. But Jonas …” The man closes his mouth for a moment, and Dan can actually hear his teeth grind. “Jonas never did anything to hurt anybody. He was a good boy. He was my boy. And you killed him.”
Birgit still doesn’t answer the man.
Instead, Dan notices her right hand move ever so discretely to her hip and slide inside her gown.
“Mom!”
Without warning, Dennis comes bursting out of the open front door.
“Mom, it’s them! It’s the people who—”
“Stay back, Dennis!”
Dennis stops dead in his tracks, staring from his mom to the others with a wild expression of fear and confusion. “What’s wrong? Why are you—”
“Hello again, son.”
Dennis spins around and gasps as he sees the old man in the wheelchair. Dennis is standing so that he’s now in the line of fire.
Dan sees Birgit slip out the dagger, keeping it hidden behind her hip. He glances over at William and sees right away that William noticed too. He sends Dan a meaningful look, then shakes his head.
The message is clear to Dan: “Don’t do anything. Don’t get in harm’s way.”
“Good to see you again, son,” the old man says to Dennis.
“Please don’t hurt him,” Birgit says.
The old guy looks at Mom like she’s mad. “I’m not going to hurt him. He didn’t do anything to my boys. You did.”
Then, before anyone else has the time to react, the old guy pulls the trigger.
THIRTY-ONE
Dennis sees the flash.
He hears the shot.
He even feels the air move.
And he sees Mom take a step backwards, then collapse.
But he doesn’t get it. Not really.
He shot Mom, a thought tells him, trying to make him understand.
Someone says something. Dennis can’t make out who. He doesn’t really care, either. He just stands there, staring at his mom lying in the gravel.
A pair of headlights appear as the van comes roaring into the courtyard, breaking hard enough that the gravel goes flying. It honks its horn three times.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dennis sees the old man—the father of Silas and Jonas—roll to the van.
“Dennis …”
Mom’s voice.
Dennis goes to her, kneeling down. And then he finally begins to cry. Once he starts, it’s like a damn breaching within him.
“Oh, Mom … don’t die … please don’t die …”
“I’m so sorry, Dennis … you must forgive me … it’s all my fault … you must understand … I was only trying to help …”
Dennis sobs uncontrollably, he’s barely able to pick up on what Mom is saying. Her face is pale. Her gown is mostly red. She’s shaking all over.
Dennis bends down and grabs hold of her, squeezing her tightly, feeling the warm blood get on his hands.
“I thought I could undo it,” she goes on, talking into his ear, her voice hoarse. “I tried so many times, but … it didn’t work, no matter what I did …”
Dennis just cries and cries as Mom’s final words make their way into his mind.
“Then I finally realized … the only thing that would break the curse … I finally saw it … I should have listened … I should have listened to the doctors …”
A moment goes by before Dennis catches on. He forces himself to stop crying as best he can, and leans back so that he can see Mom’s face through a veil of tears.
“D-doctors?” Dennis croaks. “Wh-what doctors, Mom?”
Mom’s eyes fix on someone behind Dennis. “Make the potion,” she croaks.
Dennis turns his head and looks up at Dan. They’re all standing there, looking at Mom, their expressions ranging from sad to shocked.
Dan nods. “We will. Thank you.”
“It can never be diluted,” Mom says. “Remember that.” Then she looks at Dennis and shakes her head gently as she goes on in a thin voice: “I finally saw it, Dennis … I knew what had to be done … but I couldn’t do it …” Her eyes are like icicles, piercing him. “I couldn’t leave you. I just couldn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
“I … I forgive you, Mom,” Dennis says, sniffing. “But I don’t know … I don’t know what you mean …”
“You will,” Mom says, reaching up her hand and placing it on his chest. “It’s all in here.” Then her eyes turn from ice to water as they spill over with tears. “I love you, Dennis.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
The words have only just left Dennis’s lips before Mom closes her eyes and exhales deeply, her last warm breath caressing his cheeks, warming the trail of tears flowing from his eyes and dripping from his chin.
“Please don’t go,
