Their Favoritism Resulted In A Cruel Outcome Chapter 23
I cut him off.
“But they don’t want to see you anymore.”
Henry asked through his tears, “Did Molly say anything?”
I remembered her asking if forgiving him would make him stop crying.
“She asked me why you didn’t come open the door.”
Henry went white. He collapsed to the floor and never lifted his head again.
The house in the dream disappeared. The wedding ribbons turned into police tape.
My grandmother, my mother, and my sisters-in-law receded into smoke.
I looked at my father one last time.
“You always said the Worthington family protects its own.”
“But the reason we lost hope wasn’t because of those three men who broke in.”
“It was because of you.”
“You made us believe there wasn’t a single person left outside who would come save us.”
The dream ended.
Soft, suppressed sobs rose from several death row cells at once.
I went to Connor’s cell.
He wasn’t asleep.
He was leaning against the wall, holding the approved copy of the photo album.
At the sound of wind moving through the vent, he suddenly looked up.
“Willa?”
I stood in front of him.
Maybe people who are about to die really can see ghosts. His gaze settled on my face.
He braced himself against the wall and got to his feet.
“You came.”
“I knew you would.”
He reached a hand toward me.
It passed right through my body.
Connor froze.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to die.”
“Wait for me.”
“We can go together.”
I shook my head.
“I’m not here to wait for you.”
The light in his eyes slowly dimmed.
This man who had once believed every door would open for him dropped to his knees and cried like a child.
“Don’t go.”
“Please.”
“You wrote that we would grow old together.”
I looked down at him.
“The Willa who wrote that died in the detention center you arranged.”
I turned away.
Behind me came his voice, ragged with despair.
“Willa.”
I didn’t look back.
This time, I was not the one being left behind.