I think I spent the most time with Esther out of all of us. She was a cool kid. I really liked her. As far as little sisters go, she was probably the one I’d pick if I had to. But this family is fucked up. We’re being punished for something.

Why else would we find her, only to have her taken away a few weeks later?

I wanted to hate Mary. I tried really hard to hold on to that hatred. But the more time I spent with Esther, hearing stories of her childhood with the woman who was a stranger to the rest of us, the more I realised that my mother was just another victim.

I thought I had time, though. I thought I’d be able to get to know her eventually. I didn’t take her calls when she tried to reach out, and I didn’t answer her text messages either. And now I’m burying her. Marcel was right. This family is fucking cursed. But I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to my wife.

I squeeze Cammi’s hand. We’ve had appointments with her doctors. I’ve called them without her knowledge to double-check that her heart isn’t going to fail from this pregnancy. Don’t get me wrong… I want our child. I love our child. But I also want my wife. I want her alive.

I look over to Tommy. I won’t ever be him. Sitting there while his wife is in a casket. It’ll be just like today: two bodies, two coffins.

Actually… I wonder if I can arrange a double coffin? Being buried together would make much more sense.

It’s taken a week to find the two soldiers who were supposed to be watching my sister. They slacked on the job. It’s the only reason that fucker was able to get to her. Something that never should have happened.

I have them tied up in a warehouse. They’re alive. Barely. But I won’t kill them. Not until I have the rest of my men gathered there to witness what happens when you think you can take your eye off the fucking prize.

They claim that Esther slipped past them. She went to the bathroom and never came out. Knowing the little I did about her, I don’t doubt it. That doesn’t mean I won’t hold them accountable for her death.

I told Mary I forgave her. She was dying, and she knew it. I lied, and I knew it. I didn’t forgive her. I can’t. The first time I buried my mother, I was distraught. I hid it, but I was sad. Today, I’m not sad for her. I’m sad for the sister I didn’t know. And I’m fucking pissed that we were given this bright, beautiful girl just to have her taken away from us again.