Then I feel her hand.
I glance down at Liesel’s fingers intertwined with my own. She doesn’t speak; she just guides me out of the water, away from my father’s body. The whole time I was killing my father, I forgot completely about Liesel. I was so consumed by making sure my father paid for his sins.
I don’t know where Liesel is leading me, and I don’t care. I’d follow her anywhere.
It’s not until this moment that I realize how much I needed her here with me tonight.
Finally, she stops on the edge of a hill that overlooks the lake.
We sit down.
“Thank you,” I say suddenly.
She drops my hand then, as if the phrase makes her uncomfortable. Eventually she says, “You’re welcome.”
We sit in silence once more, both processing what happened.
“That wasn’t my first kill, you know?” I say, needing her to understand what I’ve become—a monster.
“I know, and it doesn’t matter,” she whispers back.
Liesel reaches behind a nearby bush and pulls out a bottle.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“Champagne I stole from the party. I thought we should celebrate.”
She hands the open bottle to me. I hold it out like I’m about to make a toast.
“To one less monster walking this earth.” Then I take a long swig before handing the bottle to Liesel.
“To being free and new beginnings. May that man rot in hell.”
She takes a swig.
New beginnings—that’s what she said.
Our eyes meet in the chill of the night. An unspoken connection we will always share rekindles between us.
I didn’t realize how much I needed her here. How much I miss the girl who lived across the street from me when I had nothing. Now that I have everything money can buy, I’m still missing one thing—her.
I open my mouth to talk but then snap it shut.
Tonight isn’t the night to talk to her about our future. To ask for forgiveness. To start over.
Tonight is about putting an end to this chapter of our lives. I won’t start something new with Liesel so close to my father’s death. I won’t let this moment define us forever.
Someday soon, though, I’ll tell Liesel how I feel—and it will change our lives forever.
Instead of acknowledging how I feel, I tell another lie. “This changes nothing.”
8
Liesel
Eighteen Years Old
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