“What?” at this point She isn’t even trying to hide her shock because I can see it written all over her face. I look at her, my expression detached and devoid of any emotion, exactly how it becomes when I talk about this topic. “I said what I said. She jumped off a building when she found out her son was a fucking killer. A devil whom people fear. Because I’m always the bad guy in the story am I not?”

  Damn, I have never seen her so speechless. Makes sense, I just dropped a bomb on her without any warning. Taking deep breaths, she asks after a while “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “I…I didn’t want you to think I’m more of a monster than you already think of me.”

  Both of our masks are gone, both of them long forgotten in the darkness of this night. She sees me and I see her, and I wish this could happen more often. But it scares her, doesn’t it? She is afraid of me…fuck…no. Not her. I never wanted to scare her. Never the person who gave me a small hope of redemption. I can see it in the way she sits up on the bed, moving away from me. Attempting to calm me—or herself she says “its ok Riven just…just don’t think about it right now. We will handle whatever happens tomorrow”

  I laugh, but there’s no humour in it, “see now you also believe that I’m far too gone for forgiveness, don’t you? Just like everyone else. And yes of course your correct. I’m far too gone down this path Inez. You’re probably disappointed, aren’t you?”

  Suddenly, her gaze turns pitiful, sympathetic, I should hate when she looks at me like that, I don’t need her pity…I should hate it—but why can’t I?

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  Shaking her head she replies “No no I’m not disappointed about whatever you told me right now. I’m just disappointed that…you didn’t tell me this earlier.”

  What the fuck? I just told her the most horrible thing I have done and yet here she is—asking me why I didn’t tell her this earlier. What’s up with her? What if…what if she’s done worse things than me? Maybe that’s why she’s not too shocked, but this isn’t the time to ask that. “You’re scared, not of your dad but of what you see in his gaze aren’t you?”

  I manage a small smile at her words. There she is, reading me like an open book like she always does. Nodding I let out a shaky sigh, at least someone who gets it.

  Thankfully, now, she doesn’t look afraid. Instead, she scoots over closer. She is comfort, she is relief, she is the only thing keeping me sane.

  “Riven, see I can’t say anything for sure, I don’t know how your dad will react, what old graves will he dig up. But whatever happens, you need to stay strong, understand? Because your dad wants you to break. Don’t give him exactly that.”

  “But it was my fault mom died…” I breathe out

  She shakes her head frantically “No its isn’t, it was her choice…not yours.”

  I know she’s lying, of course she is doing whatever it takes to comfort me. She continues saying words like these until…I believe them, just for the next day. I allow myself to believe for a small while, that it wasn’t my fault, that mom didn’t kill herself since her son was a murderer. I love her lies. She whispers them the entire night…and I find it oddly comforting

  After all, both of us are good liars aren’t we?