“My conscience won’t rest until I get back what was stolen from me,” I say. “It doesn’t matter what Cillian would have wanted. He’s not here to tell me otherwise.”
She taps her fingernails on her thigh. “You know, Artem, I used to tell my husband something when we were newly married and his ambitions were greater than his capabilities,” she says. “‘Get out of your own way.’”
“Am I meant to apply that advice to my own life?”
“All men should,” she replies. Then she unfolds herself to her full height once again and settles her sunglasses back on her face.
She turns to go back to the ladder, but pauses before she gets far. “I wish I had more to offer you,” she says. “But all I have is my thanks.”
“For what?” I ask.
“For taking in Cillian,” she replies. “For being there for him when I didn’t.”
“He didn’t blame you.”
“He should have,” Sinead says bluntly. “I should have fought for him harder than I did. Family is the one thing you never regret fighting for. It’s also the one thing that leaves you with regret when you haven’t done enough.”
I sit there, turning her words around in my head. “Take care, Artem,” she says. “I hope you get what you want.”
Then she disappears over the edge.
Leaving me stewing in indecision.
Questioning every choice that’s brought me here.