Page 98 of When Lies Unfold

She was the first to trust me when I came here. The first to allow me to help heal her.

She was the first friendly soul I met here…and now she’s gone forever.

Sobs overtake me, my body shuddering with gut-wrenching grief as I cradle her head in my lap. Barely audible, the words inch up my throat before falling from my lips. “Don’t leave me. Pleasepleaseplease, don’t leave me…”

A gunshot rings out, jolting me from my grief-filled stupor. My head snaps up to witness one of Andro’s legs giving out. Eyes widening in shock, I turn toward Santiago, who lowers his weapon at his side.

His hardened gaze never veers from his nephew. “You’re done here.” Tone reinforced in steely foreboding, his expression is granite hard. “Don’t you ever show your fuckin’ face around here again.”

With a lift of his chin, his silent order is obeyed by the men who drag Andro away by his upper arms. His nephew shouts obscenities and complaints the entire time, but I don’t grant him any more of my time or attention.

My sole focus returns to Belleza. She didn’t deserve to die like this. Shot by a monster on someone’s lawn. I slide my hands beneath her body in an attempt to pick her up, but she’s heavier than she appears.

When Santiago lays a hand on my shoulder, a sharp lance of pain has me recoiling from his touch.

“You’re hurt.” His low, even tone is filled with command. “Let me carry her for you.”

I peer up at him, attempting to gauge his sincerity. I don’t know why he’s trying to help. None of this would’ve happened if he had just left me alone from the start.

His mouth presses thin, those dark eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll carry her.”

I scramble to my feet, ignoring the nagging pain in my shoulder. “We need to take her into the jungle.” My words emerge rapid but robotic. “I need a shovel.”

With more gentleness than I would expect, he carefully lifts the panther’s body in his arms and starts walking. Numbly, I trail after him, barely registering his curt command for someone to find two shovels and flashlights.

He leads me around the other side of the house, weaving around the vast area until we arrive at the well-guarded stone steps that descend to another section of the jungle. A handful of his men close in behind us while the others stand watch above.

Someone shines a spotlight ahead of us, illuminating our way into the thick, dense brush. Santiago pauses in deference to me to lead the way.

One of his men offers me a flashlight. Wordlessly, I accept it and edge past Santiago to venture beneath the canopy of trees. The humidity is stifling, so dense it makes it challenging to breathe.

Drawing to a stop in a relatively flat section near two Ojoche trees, I peer up into the mass of branches in the darkness.

“Here.” That’s all I can muster.

Sightlessly, I grab a shovel from one of his men. Then I set the flashlight on the ground nearby and start digging. The sound of another shovel soon accompanies me, but I pay it no attention.

Sweat trails from my hairline and down my face, mingling with tears that refuse to cease. My bare feet sink into the terrain as I plant them more firmly with each shoveling motion. My clothing clings to the dampness at my lower back and between my breasts.

I lose all semblance of time as we dig a grave for Belleza. Finally, I stop and let the shovel drop to the ground beside me. As I stare down at the shallow grave, grief feels as though it’s drowning me from within.

When I turn to face Santiago, he spears his shovel into the dirt beside the area we’ve dug. He gestures to Gordo, who holds the panther’s body, and the other man lowers to his knees and carefully lays Belleza in the grave.

My hands fist at my sides while my entire body twitches with longing to climb in with her. To have them bury us both. Because I know what’s in store for me after tonight. I have no doubts about that.

I disrupted the course of events and threw down the proverbial gauntlet. My life will become a living nightmare—albeit a slightly different one from years past.

With my heart in my throat, I pinch my eyes closed and whisper a weak apology to Belleza. Then I grab my shovel and scoop the first bit of dirt to scatter it over her body as I say a silent prayer.

Santiago helps me as we redeposit the dirt until she’s completely covered. Using the rounded back of our shovels, we compact the top of the dirt mound as best as we can.

My shovel drops from my now limp fingers, thudding to the ground. My knees give out, and I drop heavily onto them, the dirt serving as a subtle cushion. I splay my fingers over the newly filled grave, wishing with every molecule of my body to wake from this nightmare.

Lightning flashes, illuminating patches of sky still visible beneath the dense trees. Thunder rumbles in the distance, giving us the typical brief precursor before a few drops of rain begin to fall.

Dirt clings to my damp palms, and I lower my forehead to the ground. As tears drip from my face and into the earth, it’s as though my heart hemorrhages inside my chest. It doesn’t faze me when the sky lets loose with rain pelting down in stinging fashion. I relish it.

If only it could wash away my pain. If only it could clean my filthy soul. Because I did this. I caused this.

---