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The sedative should be wearing off any moment now. I needed her unconscious to transport her here, to clean her, to dress her wounds.

To chain her to the bed.

Nan isn’t speaking to me, and I’m not speaking to her. She tells me Fredo would be upset if he were here. I tell her he’d want me to do this. Be this rash.

I’m doing this for him.

He would haunt me until the end of my days if I let Wynter Snow die like our mother.

The track mark on her arm is jagged. Forced.

Unlike the marks between her toes.

Wynter Snow’s been using. The detox could kill her, if the copious needle marks between each of her toes is any indication.

But it won’t. Not much can kill her.

She looks younger without all the makeup covering her freckles. Different shades of brown dots like constellations are scattered across her cheeks, nose, and forehead. There’s even some on her scalp, visible because that animal shaved her head.

No more hiding from herself. No more hiding from me.

That’s over.

Especially after I went back and exterminated that entire family, down to their second cousin’s pet hamster.

She can be reborn from their blood.

Her Saturn Return is starting while mine ends. It’s the perfect time for rebirths, I’ve read.

I see the exact moment the sedative starts to wear off. It’s only in this moment that I allow myself to let go of the hatred that burns for her long enough to admire her beauty.

Wynter Snow has always been beautiful. And once upon a time, she was once as pure as her name suggests.

Harmless memories try to assault my mind’s eye, but I don’t let them. The moment is gone. I hate her again. I finger the bullet with her name carved on the side as I feel the blood draining from my face.

My honor would never let me kill someone while they sleep. I’d have to kill her with her looking at me with those sorrowful eyes, as she tells me for the millionth time she’s sorry.

I’ve only carved two names that haven’t been used. Maybe I’ll get to use them both soon.

A shudder runs through Wynter as her eyes flutter open. She notices me immediately, like she searches for me in every room.

Yeah right.

“What…? Where am I ?”

I don’t let myself close my eyes at the sound of her voice.

“You’re in Belize. When the sedative wears off completely, you’ll start withdrawals. Welcome to rehab. If you can’t handle it, I’ll put you out of your misery, but either way, you’re done being a junkie whore.”

She averts her eyes as tears gather, but when she lifts them back up, that fight that once drew me to her is front and center.

“I hate you, Richard,”

she seethes.

I lift myself from the wall.

“Good. Hold onto that, because believe me, Snow, I hate you, too.”

I leave the room, locking the door behind me as she screams for me to let her out.

Nan is right there, her hands on her hips. The woman barely comes to my chest, but has the aura and balls of a nigga seven feet tall.

“You talk about getting it right, Nan. This is it.”

I keep walking toward the other side of our villa. The side where she lives, not the hotel side.

“No me enga?as. Sé que la amas!”

(You are not fooling me. I know you love her!)

I don’t even dignify her with an answer.

This is for Fredo, Ma, and Haze.

No other reason.

If it were up to me, I’d use her bullet right now.

Shit, I still might.