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FORTY-THREE

FARRON

OBITUS

Day 535

The single word settles heavily in the air. It feels like it’s threatening to suffocate me and every other person inside the barn. My eyes dart from person to person, but I don’t find shock written across any of the faces—only resignation and sadness. I turn back and ignore Trevor’s aghast expression to focus on Todd, who looks only moments from passing out. I’m not sure if the decision made by the people of Rolling Hills is a shock to him, if he’s struggling to comprehend how almost everyone could vote that way.

I walk over to him, pulling him away from Trevor and further away, around a pillar further back in the barn where everyone is out of sight, before wrapping my arms around his waist, my head resting on his chest. It takes him a few moments, but eventually, his arms come up to encircle me. I can hear his shuddering breaths as his body shakes beneath me, and I feel the tears drip down onto the crown of my head as he cries. There is absolutely nothing I can say to him as he falls apart that makes anything better, especially not when I know I would be lying if I said I was sorry about Trevor’s fate.

“I am so sorry, Fare-bear,” he eventually garbles out, his voice thick with tears. “I…I had no idea about any of this, I swear to you.”

I squeeze my arms tightly around his waist. “I know, Toddler,” I say, using his nickname to make it obvious that I’m not upset or angry with him. “I know you didn’t. I’m sorry that you’re hurting right now and that you have to lose your brother.”

He coughs out a watery laugh, and I can feel the movement of his beard against my scalp as he shakes his head. “I lost him a long time ago. That’s obvious now. He made all of these decisions on his own, and everything that’s happening now is his own fault. I just don’t know how I didn’t see it, how I didn’t realize it was this bad.”

“It is not your fault, Todd,” I tell him, pulling away from him to make sure he can see in my eyes just how serious I am about my next words. “It is not your fault that you didn’t know what Trevor was up to, the things he was hiding from everyone. It is not your fault that he decided his obsession with me superseded everyone’s safety here. It is not your fault. Do you understand?”

“If I had just…spent more time with him, maybe. Involved him more in the things I was doing with your guys, maybe it would have been different,” he says, stepping back a few feet to rest the back of his head against the wall, face tilted up towards the ceiling.

“And you think that would have worked?” I ask him, causing his eyes to snap down to meet mine. “You think he would have had any interest in spending time with you when you were with Adrian? Or Kenji or Theo? You think it would have helped for him to sit there and watch you guys all laugh and joke while he stewed in his anger?”

“But maybe?—”

“No maybes, Todd. You’ll never know what would have been different, if anything at all. We cannot change the past, and you can’t blame yourself for choices you didn’t make,” I tell him, stepping forward to grab his hand.

He slides down against the wall, pulling me along with him until we’re both seated on the barn floor. I can hear everyone softly speaking back towards the front, but they can wait. We sit in silence for a while until he finally speaks again, his voice breaking as he does. “How is Jay ever going to look at me again when my brother is the reason his grandpa, the last person in his family, is dead?”

“I’m not sure Jay’s feelings for you are so weak and thin that they would simply snap over something you had no control over. Maybe you should be asking yourself why you shoulder the blame for something I know he wouldn’t blame you for,” I tell him. He scoffs in response but doesn’t say anything further.

“How’s Mabel handling everything?” I finally ask. I noticed she wasn’t in the barn when everyone was gathering, which was probably the right call.

“Better than I thought she would be, to tell you the truth,” Todd replies. “She didn’t seem overly surprised or anything, just disappointed—as if she knew he was bound to pull something like this eventually.”

I hum noncommittally in response. “Maybe that sort of wisdom comes with old age.”

“Yeah,” he says before snorting out a short, watery laugh. “Or maybe my grandma is just a bit of a geriatric witch who isn’t fully there herself most of the time.”

We slip into silence after that.

Time passes, and I sigh, knowing I have to get back out there and face the music. My knees crack as I stand up again, and I look down at Todd to find his eyes screwed shut. “You don’t have to go back out there if you don’t want to,” I tell him. “But I have to. And if you want to say any goodbyes to your brother, this is probably the time.”

“Is it bad if I say I want to talk to him?”

“No,” I respond instantly, knowing that if I were in his shoes, there’s no way I could let Holden go without saying goodbye and probably giving him a piece of my mind. “You’re allowed to want closure when there’s a chance for it.”

“Can you bring him back here?” Todd asks after a long exhale, his eyes still shut. “Just for a minute so I can talk to him for the last time?”

“Of course,” I tell him, bending down to press a kiss against his head. I go back to the front to find everyone still gathered, talking quietly amongst themselves as they await my return. I ask them all for a few more minutes of patience and then pull Kenji to the side, asking him to take Trevor to the back. I don’t go along with them, wanting to give them some privacy. I honestly don’t want to hear anything Trevor may have to say, either.

True to his word, Todd only takes a few minutes with his brother, who turns back up with Kenji before I know it. I had expected Trevor’s face to maybe be red and splotchy from crying or to at least see regret in his eyes. That’s not the case. He only seems indignant and angry, and it solidifies that feeling in my gut that this is the right move. I face the crowd in the barn again, now in a hurry to just get this over with. The exhaustion is catching up with me, and all I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep for days.

“Todd has said his goodbye to his brother, and it’s clear to all of us what’s going to happen. Before we close the town hall, is there anyone else who has something they want to say?” My voice turns up a bit higher as I ask the question, awkwardness seeping through. I’m pretty sure no one has anything nice to say to Trevor, but it feels like giving the option would be the right thing to do. For a few moments, the barn sits in silence. Suddenly, Pa’s voice cuts through it all.

“Your parents would be ashamed of you,” he tells Trevor. “And you should regret everything you’ve done, if only for the pain it’s brought your brother and grandmother.” He doesn’t stay to see anyone’s reaction to his words; he simply shoots me a soft glance that shows me how proud he is of me before turning and walking out of the barn. Nobody else says anything. Instead, I watch as everyone gets up onto their feet and slowly makes their way out of the barn—tired of the situation, trusting me to handle it. They know I will.

Once it’s only my guys and I left in the barn with Jay and Trevor, Todd still somewhere in the back, I tell Jay to grab Todd and take him home. “You know I’ll take care of it,” I tell him.

“You just need to take care of our boy.” Something passes over Jay’s eyes, but it’s far too quick for me to be able to discern what exactly it is. He only nods, going to the back to grab Todd who squeezes my hand as he walks by, even as his eyes remain rooted to the floor.

I watch them leave the barn, and a heavy rock settles in my gut at having to do this again so soon after Mr. Abel. Something I should have never needed to do if it weren’t for Trevor. I turn to my guys and ask them to follow me, and they pull Trevor along as we make our way out of the barn and around back, where no one will be able to see what will happen next. My hand reaches into the waistband of my jeans, pulling out the small revolver I had brought this morning, just in case.

It’s the same stupid gun that I used a few months ago on Mr. Abel. Something about it feels like retribution.

I feel a hand close around my shoulder, and I look up to find Kenji looking down at me, a frown on his face. “No, baby,” he tells me, shaking his head. “Not again. You’re not alone, remember? You will hand this over to me, and I will take care of it with Adrian. Theo will take you back home so you can rest, yeah?”

Tired and utterly grateful for the save Kenji is offering me, I can only exhale in relief and nod. I hand the revolver over before stepping up on my toes to press a long kiss to his lips, showing him just how much this means to me. He turns and signs to Theo, who immediately grabs my hand and pulls me away from the barn and back to the cottage.

Relief washes over me, knowing the problem will be taken care of. Rolling Hills will finally be safe again.