"I could never hurt him enough to make his betrayal stop hurting. And it hurts, every part of my body."
- Veronica Roth, Insurgent
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Elizabeth Grace's POV
Arrested. Over the new year, I learned Erik Lehnsherr was arrested for the murder of former President John F. Kennedy. He is currently being held in a specialized cell underneath the Pentagon. Dad seems very upset over the subject, so I do not dare to discuss it with him.
I cannot say I have forgiven him for what happened in Cuba. It isn't because of my near-death experience or his betrayal. For a reason I will never truly be able to understand, I am able to forgive him for such things. However, that's when I see dad—bound to his chair for the rest of his days—and this... for this, I cannot forgive him. There is a broken sorrow inside my heart that pounds with agony when I remember that my father will never even be able to stand on his own two feet again.
I feel void of emotion when it comes to him. I've never felt such a feeling in my life. The former feelings of joy and protection are gone. There are no new feelings of hatred or anger. There's just... nothing.
I find myself collecting evidence on what actually took place that day in Dallas. The bullet curved. Erik is the only explanation for this. His execution seemed sloppy, however. This isn't like the Erik I know—not recently at least. He most certainly was reckless in the past—though with style—but now, in anything he does, he has a plan. His brotherhood's works are very clever and precise. I've only been able to understand that they were carried out by the brotherhood due to the fact that I know Erik.
My only explanation is that this mission was considered an emergency—something that was planned almost on a whim. Clearly, this was unexpected—and Kennedy's visit to Dallas was nothing to be unknown. His assassination would've been something that Erik would've planned—extensively. He was caught directly after. Altogether, my evidence doesn't make sense. Either there was an unexpected element... or Erik's plan wasn't to assassinate the former president.
I am currently in my room with papers spread across my desk. I have a board with string connecting pieces of evidence that now resembles a highly entangled web. All this has gained me is more frustration. It doesn't make sense. I'm missing something.
"Ok, Erik," I say. "What do you know that I don't?"
I feel like I'm attempting to put together a puzzle with 100 pieces—only having 99—that will be incomplete without a single piece that ties it all together. Without this one thing, I will only have 99 individual pieces and no true picture. If I only knew what I was looking for.
What am I missing?
Erik's goal is to defend mutants. He believes us to be the dominant race. The brotherhood attacks those who persecute humans—just like the ships firing at us in Cuba. Most of the U.S. government is oblivious to the existence of mutants. That information is considered classified. This is not to say that the president was not aware. However, I have found absolutely no evidence of anti-mutant programs or anything that would appear to be a threat to us. So what would make Erik desire to kill him? What advantage would that give him besides a very risky show of power? This theory seems to be too big a gamble for the brotherhood at this point, and therefore makes no logical sense.
"Ah!" I exclaim in frustration.
"What are you..." Sean begins to ask as I hear my door open to reveal him entering. His voice trails off before he can finish until he regains his focus on me. "What's going on?"
His eyes scan the disaster that is my room. Files, papers, and pictures seem to cover every inch of space. String is unrolled across my floor. Thumbtacks and rolls of tape cover my desk on top of the numerous papers.
"I thought your dad said to drop that."
His voice isn't detrimental or condescending. It's concerned. Sean gets easily worried about me. However, his concern looks different than Alex's, Hank's, or my dad's. It's a concern that tries to be empathetic but struggles to nonetheless. Even so, it's a concern that I've found I am able to take a bit of comfort in it.
"It doesn't make sense," I try to explain. "If Erik-"
"It's Erik, what do you expect? He's insane."
"No. He's methodical. Driven. Passionate. Sometimes overly so."
"He's insane."
"I'm all of those things. We just have different ideals."
"I thought you didn't care about Erik anymore."
"I-I-I don't. I-"
"Then why all this?"
"I..."
Sean sighs. He walks inside and sits on the edge of my bed after moving a few papers. His eyes look sympathetic. Even if sometimes he may struggle to understand the thoughts rolling around inside my brain, it's as if they're on display on a billboard with neon lights today.
"I miss him too." Ok, admittedly, that's not what I was expecting. "Even him pushing me off the satellite. He seemed like a cool guy. You and he seemed to have something I haven't really seen before. Course, I haven't really seen any of this before."
"I don't... I don't... miss him," I say as confidently as I can.
"Yeah, you do."
"I-"
"You do. Rather you choose to actually believe that... well, ya know."
"I... Whatever."
"Come on," he tells me as he stands from the edge of the bed and walks towards the door.
"What?" I ask, confused.
"Come on."
"Where?"
"Anywhere but being stuck in here with your future avalanche of papers."
Despite my protesting, Sean walks over to me and throws me over his shoulder. He laughs as I mumble. He closes the door as we walk off to find Alex or Hank or whoever we might find first.
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Song: How It Was Done by David Arnold and Michael Price