Because favours are priced...
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"You have an insatiable desire for trouble Camille Sanders. You'll never just be satisfied. You're like me, too wild for the world."
I laugh at the outrageousness. "You're dramatic I'll give you that Michae...
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The dark clouds rolled over, blocking out any presence of sunlight. The dreary day had become infinitely gloomier. I tuck back my hair once again, and smoothen down the dress I wore. A black dress.
People all around me wore black suits and dresses, some even hats. Their shoes dug into the soft grass as we sat outside on the burial site. Isaac's grave.
Like Isaac had promised, he'd left all of us a letter, explaining most of his actions. He'd told the rest of them the truth about what he was going through, and specifically had asked not to blame me. While they no longer did, I could never shake the feeling off.
He'd known what I intended with that chip. He'd written how it wouldn't have worked, but I doubted that still. He had also asked for forgiveness, apologising for burdening me and Nick with all this cursed knowledge.
"I'm not sorry I know. If I don't who else does?"
The letter now laid folded, and stuck back in its envelope, inside the bag beside me. I patted it once more, refusing to let it out of my sight.
Don't ever blame yourself.
Love,
Isaac
He'd signed off each of our letters exactly like that and sent it to each us in the most old fashioned way possible, through post.
"I regret everything."
"Camille," Katrina starts, "you're not the kind of person to regret anything. He always admired that did you know? So don't start now."
She was brave. Despite this façade of calm she had, I could see into the rubber band she kept snapping on her wrist. She felt the guilt as heavily as any one of us. Her brother was the one abusing Isaac, her brother the one manipulating him.
But she couldn't have stopped Oliver, just like none of us could stop Isaac.
Oliver had made to the funeral too, immaculate once more, dressed to perfection. He chose to stand in a corner close to the casket when it was inside the church, despite it not even being open. He hadn't spoken with anyone as far as I knew. I suppose he was feeling the guilt now.
I think of Katrina, unable to stop comparing the two siblings. The blood relation was that only, blood, but still the fear of becoming like him was also there. I think we all had that fear.
I noticed my dad talking to someone, the twins not far behind. He'd met me this morning and even gotten me the clothes. He had told me then, that he had to use the twins.
In the midst of everything I had forgotten about them. How was I going to tell them their mother murdered their father?
Now they had to be used by my father. He'd visited Belinda with them, ensuring Belinda's people wouldn't harm him.
