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my name, wailing, “Alicia, Alicia—” I remained silent.
“Alicia? Fuck, fuck, oh, fuck—”
I remained silent.
“Alicia, answer me, Alicia—oh, God—”
I remained silent. How could I talk? Gabriel had sentenced me to death. The dead don’t talk.
I untied the wire around my ankles. I got up from the chair. I reached down to the floor. My fingers closed around the gun. It was hot and heavy in my hand. I walked around the chair, and I faced Gabriel. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. His eyes widened.
“Alicia? You’re alive—thank God you’re—”
I wish I could say I struck a blow for the defeated—that I was standing up for the betrayed and brokenhearted—that Gabriel had a tyrant’s eyes, my father’s eyes. But I’m past lying now. The truth is Gabriel had my eyes, suddenly—and I had his. Somewhere along the way we had swapped places.
I saw it now. I would never be safe. Never be loved. All my hopes, dashed—all my dreams, shattered—leaving nothing, nothing. My father was right—I didn’t deserve to live. I was—nothing. That’s what Gabriel did to me.
That’s the truth. I didn’t kill Gabriel. He killed me. All I did was pull the trigger.