"Was his DNA on the weapon?" Silence. "It's his gun right? He'd pulled the trigger right? Was Terrence Gresham's DNA on the weapon?" He ran a hand through his chestnut hair.
"Maybe you're right, maybe we shouldn't think about Monday, but remember o...
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★彡
She was home, but it felt nothing like a home. There was a reason why she'd chosen to fall asleep on an idle park bench right outside the scene of a murder. There were multiple reasons.
Maybe she believed she could forget. That with all the drama of Lawrence Harrington's passing, it would slip her mind. Maybe she would wake up away from home and that report wouldn't be sitting on her coffee table when she returned. But it was. It still glared at her, a scar marked on every inch of her skin, she couldn't escape it. And sitting still on the couch, elbows perched on her knees and fingers interlinked, she had to admit to herself, it was all but a matter of time.
It was almost laughable how much effort she'd put in to prevent it. How many lies she'd told herself after her monthly tests.
She wasn't going to get it.
She wasn't supposed to get it.
She was healthy. Did that mean Michel wasn't?
He hadn't escaped it. He couldn't escape it and neither could she.
The thought of attending Chemotherapy had her stomach churning. She was weak, aching, but nothing compared to the hurt she'd felt watching Michel Gresham wither away each day like grains of dust in a whirl wind.
A door opened and shut. There were footsteps, muffled. But only one side of the couch dipped. "Wanna talk about it?" Grace Gresham asked from the couch, but Christina couldn't tear her eyes from the sheet of paper on her coffee table. She knew Grace would have seen it. She knew Jacob would have too.
Christina couldn't say she understood why even after prying herself from the single document, she returned and still felt warped by it.
"I don't understand." She started, eyes still trailing the piece of paper even after Jacob had picked it up and lowered his large build onto the table. She couldn't continue, she couldn't continue without opening something she'd kept bundled for multiple years.
"You don't have to." Grace offered. "You don't have to understand it right now. You don't even have to face it today. But, you'll have to face it sooner rather than later." Christina nodded shutting her eyes and leaning onto her cousin's shoulder.
"Terrence was taken into custody today." Christina changed the subject. It wasn't as if there was a brighter subject to talk about. Christina heard her cousin heave a sigh. She felt it.
"I saw him, Christina," Jacob commented. Christina squeezed her eyes shut almost hoping that she could disappear and not have to deal with the scattered crumbs of her life. "I know what they're gonna do to him. I know what Barron's gonna do to get him to confess to the murder."
"He lied to me." Christina heard herself say. "Said Terrence was answering some questions." She hadn't opened her eyes.
"He's not a bad person, but he's hurt and he can do some bad things when he's like that." Christina concentrated on her breathing, marveling on the single fact that there would be a time she wouldn't be able to do so on her own.
"I have to go down there." Her eyes fluttered open.
"And do what?" Grace asked softly. "He hasn't been charged, you heading down there would add fuel to the fire, and we both know that's the last thing he needs."
"Then what?!" Christina sat up, her tone sharp. "I get I can't do much, but he's my father and I have to at least try."
"We get that." Jacob countered. "But making one impulsive decision after another isn't going to fix things." He paused, heaving a sigh. "I'll get dressed and head back to the station. I'll keep Barron under control, if anything gets out of hand I'll give you a call, okay?" Christina was hesitant. She wanted to be there to be near Terrence in person and know that he wasn't being tortured in any way. The thought of them hurting him... practically killed her.
