Three months after the tragedy the force concluded its investigation into the shootings. It found that all the evidence, analysis, context, and history leading up to the event pointed to a non-criminal, justified shooting: a tragic act of self-defense.

Fortin was cleared of any wrongdoing.

Absolved.

The morning of the report’s release, his home phone rang and he answered. Roxanne Lister, a reporter with the Canadian Press news service, had called him.

“Sir, what’s your response to the investigation clearing you in the Lone Tree shootings?”

Fortin swallowed hard, tightened his grip on the phone, wondering how she’d obtained his private number, but then he didn’t care. In his heart he’d wanted to tell her how he’d ached to go back in time, ached for a chance to change the past and save the lives of the children.

“I really don’t have anything to say,” was all he could manage.

“But you must be relieved. I mean, you shot –”

Fortin hung up and raked his hands over his face.

The news reports on the findings of the investigation were positive. No one, not even members of Trudy and Lyle’s families, were critical.

Everyone had accepted the conclusion.

Everyone except Fortin.

Yet he knew that if he was ever going to get beyond the tragedy, he had to do it as a cop. He needed to keep being a cop. It was how he defined himself.

A short time later, Dr. Mathson and Dr. Sileski submitted their confidential psychological status report to the force.

“Constable Will Fortin continues to pay an extraordinary personal price for the unfortunate circumstances that were not in his control. He shoulders excessive guilt, remorse, and unwarranted blame. Still, he remains a highly intelligent, cognizant, capable, and valuable officer. The most effective path toward a positive process for him would be the resumption of his former assignment. We therefore recommend that he be returned to active duty.”

Fortin had learned that only after some high-level, closed-door debate, did his supervisors accept the recommendation. But before he could return to work he needed to re-qualify on firearms use.

It would be the first time he’d touched a gun since that night.

-Chapter 15-

Calgary, Alberta

I’ll be holding and firing a gun again.

The thought weighed on Fortin.

He grew anxious upon receiving the order to report to the range in Calgary. Sergeant George Turl, the firearms instructor, greeted him when he arrived advising him that he’d be qualifying on a Smith & Wesson semi-automatic.

The same model I had that night.

When Fortin felt the gun in his hand, bile rose in the back of his throat.

He licked his dry lips, swallowed and continued.

He checked his stance, ensuring that his hold on the Hogue grip was correct. He’d lined up the target in the sights, kept his finger on the trigger, squeezing it until the air exploded.