Cognitive Deviance

Epilogue

A minute later, Margo and Karen explored the cemetery. Clouds blotted the sky, hinting at snow, but patches of blue punched through the gray. Sunlight bathed some of the gravestones, feeding the grass, and Margo studied each name, date, and story each stone had to offer. They were no longer people she failed to save.

Though it was harder to maintain optimistic thoughts upon entering a new area of the cemetery, one marked with Psychwatch's psi logo. In the distance, Carl wore a black trench coat stretching down to his calves, hovering before one particular gravestone.

"There he is," Margo whispered to her mother. "Let's go."

A cobblestone pathway carved through the rows of gravestones, and Margo scanned the horizon, taking note of names and flowers. Most of the spark roses were outside the designated area for fallen Psychwatch officers, she realized. Perhaps Carl would turn them down.

A few rows before reaching the one where Carl stood, Margo found one she knew well. JOSEPH KUSANAGI, it read, his name inscribed beneath a silver psi logo carved into the stone. JULY 16, 2000 - NOVEMBER 11, 2045. A loyal officer, a curious mind, and a good friend.

Rest In Peace, Kusanagi, Margo thought, and she and Karen paused at the edge of the row Carl stood in, readying themselves.

"Go ahead," Karen whispered, patting her daughter's shoulder, and Margo approached Carl with her bouquet of spark roses. 

Before she said another word, she looked down at the grave and gasped. Two tears made their way out of her eyes before she wiped them away. Knowing what was coming was not enough. She struggled to read the rest of the gravestone's inscription.

HOLDEN LIONEL SANGER. OCTOBER 16, 2027 - OCTOBER 31, 2045. A great officer, son, nephew, and friend.

"Carl," Margo choked, "I...I'm...sor—"

"Carl can't talk right now," said an alter, glancing over at Margo. Their eyes were soft and sympathetic. It couldn't have been Vince. "He can see you. He's glad you showed up. But he can't talk right now. So on behalf of him, thank you for coming, Margo. You, too, Miss Sandoval."

Another tear made its way out. Margo wiped it away. "Loki?" she said.

"Yeah," he replied with a small smile. "I haven't done much for him, so this was the best I could do. I'm really, really sorry about everything."

"It's..." Margo paused to compose herself. "It's not your fault."

"It's not anyone's fault, right? No one with a heart like yours and Carl's, anyway."

"That's what I tell her," Karen said, resting her hand on Margo's shoulder.

Loki faced the gravestone. "Why do people apologize so much for things they can't control?" he asked. "And why do they blame themselves so much?"

Karen shrugged. "I think we all just believe there will be a day we can control everything. But frankly...I don't think that's possible. And that's okay."

"Yeah," Margo said with watery eyes.

"Did you know what happened with that Royce guy?" said Loki. "They didn't put him here with the other officers since he was working with the masked men, but when they entered his house to find out why he did it, man...the place was a mess."

Margo sniffled. "Really?"

"Yeah. The only one there was one of those hologram girls from Specter's. She said her name was Sofia."

Suddenly, Margo understood why Royce didn't believe his own advice. The worst thing you can do is make yourself the most influential person in someone else's life for your own self-benefit. He was alone. He never realized there were things to reinforce his words as truth. And now he was just another victim.