Chapters (40)
- Sin determinar
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- EPILOGUE
- THE END
Now, all these years later, seeing the same look in Deborah's eyes, I felt the same unhappy sense of helplessness wash over me. I could only gawk at her as she turned away and looked at the window once more.
“For Christ's sake,” she said, without looking away from the window. “Quit staring at me.” Chutsky slid into a chair on the opposite side. “She is a little cranky lately,” he said.
“Fuck you,” she said without any real emphasis, tilting her head to look around Chutsky and keep her focus on the window.
“Listen, Deborah,” he said. “Dexter knows where this guy is that hurt you.” She still didn't look, just blinked her eyes, twice. “Uh, and he was thinking that him and me might go get him actually. And we wanted to talk to you about it,” Chutsky said. “See how you feel about it.”
“How I feel,” she said with a flat and bitter voice, and then she turned to face us with a pain in her eyes that was so terrible even I could feel it. “Do you want to know what I really feel?” she said.
“Hey, it's okay,” said Chutsky.
“They told me I was dead on the table,” she said. I feel like I'm still dead. I feel like I don't know who I am or why or anything and I just ...” A tear rolled down her cheek and again, it was very unsettling. “I feel like he cut out all of me that matters,” she said, “and I don't know if I will ever get it back.” She looked back at the window again. I feel like crying all the time, and that's not me. I don't cry, you know that, Dex. I don't cry,” she repeated softly as another tear rolled down the track made by the first one.
“It's okay,” Chutsky said again, even though it clearly wasn't.
I feel like everything I always thought is wrong now,” she went on. “And I don't know if I can go back to being a cop if I feel like this.”
“You're gonna feel better,” Chustky said. “It just takes time.”
“Go get him,” she said, and she looked at me with a little trace of her good old anger showing now. “Get him, Dexter,” she said. “And do what you have to do.” She held my gaze for a moment, then turned back to the window.
“Dad was right,” she said.
THIRTY
Sin determinar
THIRTY