A gunshot rings out through the basement, and I race after the blood smeared across the floor.
Cassandra.
I want to shout her name. I want to scream.
But my chest is so tight I canât make a sound.
Sheâs already bleeding.
Sheâs already hurt.
My feet fly beneath me as I round the corner.
Thereâs an open door just ahead, and I swear Iâll give my life for hers if she can just be okay.
The gun in my hand is shaking. For the first time in twenty years, Iâm shaking.
She has to be okay.
I brace myself as I reach the doorway.
But Iâm not prepared.
Standing in the center of the awful room, between the man Iâve been chasing for two decades and three more of his victims, is Cassandra.
Her arms are stretched out in front of her. And sheâs gripping a gun thatâs pointed at Gabriel.
And thereâs blood blossoming across his chest.
Cassandra lifts her aim, just a bit. âThis one is for Freya.â
She fires.
For Freya.
A lifetime of guilt and torment unlatches from my soul as I watch the bullet penetrate Gabriel Marcouxâs forehead and blow out the back of his skull.
Blood and gray matter spray through the open door behind him.
Itâs done.
The world shifts around me.
Itâs truly done.
My beautiful Butterfly ended it.
She took my burden and made it her own.
My sisterâs radiant smile flashes before my eyes.
Images of my family, my parents and Freya, sitting around the breakfast table flicker in my mind.
Memories of a time when we were all happy slip back into existence.
Reminders of who they were beforeâ¦
A vision of me bringing my children to visit their grandparentsâ graves presses me to the doorframe.
I havenât visited them.
I couldnât bear to face them, not until I put this to rest.
The dead body of Gabriel Marcoux falls to the floor.
It is over.
My family can finally rest.
And so can I.
Because of her.