Their Favoritism Resulted In A Cruel Outcome Chapter 22
The night before the executions, I went to the state prison.
I wasn’t there to say goodbye. There were simply things I had never said while I was alive.
My father and brothers were asleep.
They were dreaming of my wedding day. The Worthington house was ablaze with light.
My grandmother sat in the drawing room. My mother and sisters-in-law were all there.
The children ran around chasing white ribbons, their laughter drifting in through the windows.
I came down the staircase of the north wing in my wedding dress.
A light appeared in my father’s eyes.
“Willa.”
He came toward me.
I stepped back.
He froze.
“Dad.”
It was the first time I had called him that since I died.
His lips trembled.
“It was my fault.”
“Your grandmother, your mother, Lauren, Rachel, Hannah, the children… they’re all gone.”
“There’s nothing left of this family.”
“I’m willing to pay with my life.”
“Can you forgive me?”
I looked at him.
“No.”
The last bit of hope vanished from his face.
“Why?”
“Because you’re not sorry for my sake.”
“You just don’t know how to live with losing them.”
“If there had been no fire that night, you would have brought hot coffee when you came for us, then asked Grandma to control her temper, asked Mom to be understanding, and asked my sisters-in-law not to make a scene.”
“You would have told me Blair had suffered a great deal and that I shouldn’t hold it against her.”
“You wouldn’t have even thought you’d done anything wrong.”
My father opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Luke dropped to his knees.
“Willa, I’m so sorry.”
“Rachel, and the baby…”
“You should be apologizing to them.”