Page 191 of Because I Killed Him
“Edmund said that Sergeant What’s-His-Name from the yacht stopped by while he was here,” she adds.
“What for?”
“The sergeant wanted to know if you were awake. Asked if you’re pressing charges against Irene.Again.”
I twist the sheets between my fingers as I consider what such a trial would entail. Of course, I want to press charges again, but if I do, Edmund’s and my relationship won’t stay private. Irene will expose it and parade it through Grandmaster, twisting the truth with rumors and gossip. If that’s not enough, she might even leak the story to the press herself. Evidence wouldn’t matter much; an accusation alone would be enough to damage my reputation and my family’s honor.
I decide it’s better to wait and focus on the Speakeasy trial, the one charge unrelated to Edmund. If Irene is convicted there, she’ll be arrested and executed, and she’ll no longer be able to hang Edmund’s grandfather’s flight jacket over his head like a noose.
“I want to,” I say. “But I’m going to focus on getting better first.”
Charlotte slides onto the bed next to me and pulls the covers over her legs, as if we’re back in my room at home, before all this. Just the two of us, shoulder to shoulder, binge-watching bad soap operas and tearing them apart line by line.
“The last week’s been a shitshow,” she says, sniffing. “You missed a lot.”
“Like w-what?”
“Well, for starters, Edmund called off his engagement to Irene.”
A breath slips into me, so shallow it barely counts. Then another comes, sharper, like a gasp, and something deep inside me—knotted so tightly I’d long since stopped trying to loosen it—finally unravels. I feel the relief in my stomach, in my throat, in the way my jaw unlocks effortlessly. Then the rush hits, a slow, spreading warmth blooming from my chest to myface. I can’t stop it. I don’t even try. My eyes sting, not from pain but from the unbearable release of a pressure I never dared hope would lift.
I turn away, but it’s already too late. Charlotte has seen everything.
“Lore…” she says softly, laying a hand over mine. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just—” My voice breaks. “When did he call it off?”
“On the yacht, while we were loading into the helicopter. Turns out there was a clause in their formal agreement. Irene wasn’t allowed to hurt Jack or Dickie. And when she almost got Dickie killed, that was it. Edmund ended it right there.”
I remember how Irene’s face went pale while Edmund was shouting at her on the deck of the yacht, like the air had been punched out of her. Now I know why.
“So… Edmund’s f-free?”
Charlotte chews her lip. “Well, not exactly. Edmund says Irene broke their agreement and is filing a formal breach-of-contract claim. But Irene says she never meant to hurt Dickie, so she’s contesting it.”
Irene has no choice. If a charge like that sticks, it will affect more than just her. The Husseys would lose it all, their name, influence, and legacy. There’s no crawling back from dishonor like that, not even for Blues.
“Irene’s taking it to the courts,” Charlotte says. “All the way.”
I pause, my throat raw, and force the words out. “D-Do you think E-Edmund will win?”
“I don’t know. But it doesn’t really matter. Irene’s gonna get nailed for trying to kill you the first time.”
I push myself upright, and pain twinges through my leg. “H-How are you s-so sure?”
Charlotte frowns, confused at first. Then her eyes widen. “Oh, shit. You don’t know, do you?”
“K-Know what?”
“It’s why we were so distracted on the yacht, Lore. Why we didn’t notice Irene sneak above deck to attack you. Because the verdict came in.”
I freeze as I read the fragile hope on her face. “The Blues wereconvicted?”
“Yes. And the execution…” She swallows. “It’s tonight.”
I spend the hours before the Blues’ execution getting fitted with a leg brace. Like it or not, I have to go to the first-year Lecture Hall tomorrow morning to take my exams. If I miss them, I’ll lose credit for every course and be forced to repeat the entire year.
While I sit on the edge of my bed, with two Pinkies fastening the brace over my leg, I think about the way Edmund dove into the lake without a second’s hesitation, risking himself for Dickie.For me.He’s already used up his visitor hours for the day, so I haven’t told him I’m awake. But it’s hard to wait until tomorrow, and to recall the feeling of his hands when he’s not here to touch me for real.
