I don’t care. I’m not hiding from him. I’ll tell him I burned the damned thing. Because that is exactly what I plan to do with it.

So, I leave the glass box where it is and make my way back through the dark house. I’m fully aware as I head to the back door that he has cameras everywhere and will see what I’ve done, but again, I remind myself that I don’t care because he obviously doesn’t. Colette was wrong. What she thinks she saw in the way he looks at me isn’t anything but ownership. Possession. Hate.

I slip on the pair of shoes I’d left at the door earlier when I’d gone for a walk, unlock and open the back door, pausing when I do, wincing as I wait for an alarm. But nothing comes. I’m not actually sure if the house has an alarm, but if so, it’s not on.

The night is black, moonless, and cloudless, and it’s cold. My sweater will have to be enough, though, and before I know it, I find myself at the doors of the small chapel. When I push one open, I see the red of the Tabernacle lamp and step inside.

The door closes behind me, and I’m alone inside the old stone church. The place has an eerie feel to it now, and it’s no less cold than it was outside.

I walk to the front of the church and drop the sheet on the stone altar. I pick up the box of matches to light more of the altar candles feeling less sure of what I’m about to do now than I had just a few minutes ago.

Once more candles are lit, I see the photographs on the altar, and although Leandro is an adult in the framed photo, I can still see the child he was in that photo in Santiago’s book. I shift my gaze to his father and meet his cold eyes. They stare at me from inside the frame, accusing me from beyond the grave.

It’s his fault Santiago is the way he is.

And I wonder if we do have a baby together, what kind of father will Santiago be if the only role model he had was this cold, brutal man?

What kind of father could he be if he can do to the mother of his child what he plans to do with this soiled sheet?

“You are a fool,” I tell myself and light one more match. I set it to the bloody sheet and watch the flame take and spread.

30

Santiago

Exhaustion is settling heavily into my bones by the time I pull through the gates of The Manor. The fresh sting of my sister's betrayal has left me empty. Vacant. I need sleep and a moment of peace.