Page 62 of Capuleto

"And she didn't oppose this?"

"She said she had a mental problem, that she was a... ni-ni..."

"Nymphomaniac," the father interjected. "Atheist nonsense. That's the explanation given by those who don't believe in God for someone who has fallen into Lucifer's clutches... Do you know the Bible?" I nodded. "Galatians 5:19-21. 'Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: of the which I tell you before, as I have also told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. For the flesh here is the fallen and corrupt human body, along with all its lusts. This flesh was not created by God, but is a mixture of what God created and sin, which is the life of Satan, the evil one. God created man's body as a clean vessel, but this vessel was corrupted and turned into the flesh at the moment of the fall when Satan, as sin personified, is in the flesh of man, making his home there, and reigning as an unlawful owner, dominating man and forcing him to do what he dislikes.'"

"Amen," concluded the woman, looking adoringly at her husband.

Andrey and I looked at each other in silence. I felt sick to my stomach; these two were indeed sick.

"Is that why your daughter was taking Mentium? To endure the beatings?" I wanted to know. Both glanced at each other. They didn't answer, just held each other's gaze. I aimed the gun at the woman's heart. "What?"

She was startled and screamed her husband's name.

"Leave her!" he ordered, trying to break free from my man to come towards me. Andrey placed the barrel at his temple.

"My boss has asked you a question, answer!"

"We never saw her take those pills. We don't know what could have happened that day. I was at the port, and my wife had gone out shopping. Maybe the devil asked her to jump so he could lie with her in hell."

I was fucking sick of this lunatic's theories. I had heard enough. I thought of the promise I had made to Adriano and all that his mother must have suffered in this house. It was my turn to impart justice, and in this case, it would not be divine.

I stood up and approached him with the gun raised.

"Stay with the woman. Mr. Peña and I are going to have a talk with God, see if he'll accept him into his kingdom." The man looked at me uncomprehendingly. "Tell me, which was the room?" I pointed the revolver towards the doors down the hallway.

"I'm not going with you to any room."

"Oh, but you will."

My gun was equipped with a silencer; I aimed at his big toe and fired. Screams echoed through the dining room. Doña Carmen started crying and I leaned close to the ear of that pig.

"Sometimes, you don't need a demon to unleash hell, just a woman with enough reasons to make you burn in it. And now, walk, or it will be much worse."

26

Last wills

I had been medically discharged and was watching the sunset from the top of a bridge, fulfilling Dante's last wish, embraced by my wife. My voice wasn't fully recovered, but at least I could communicate without needing to use the whiteboard.

I thought about everything that had happened during my stay in the hospital until I got here.

Irene came to see me when my wife was resting at home, and she offered to take care of my dressings when the doctor indicated.

I told her it wasn't necessary. Nikita had suggested hiring a specialized nurse. My friend dismissed the idea; after all, she had that qualification and worked in a clinic; yes, it was a cosmetic surgery clinic, but for our purposes, a cure was a cure.

I never agreed because, although she intended to smooth things over with my wife, Nikita’s untamed nature made me think it was best to discuss it with her. I didn’t want any misunderstandings. Although Irene didn’t seem to take the hint and kept insisting she was the best option for my wife to understand that there was nothing between us anymore, just friendship. It was clear she didn’t know her...

We spent part of the afternoon remembering Dante. She talked, and I just wrote on the whiteboard when necessary. Irene also appreciated him a lot, and it was good to share; that’s also what mourning was about. Although I couldn't continue to feel guilty, this was the second death of a friend I had accumulated, and the burden was becoming increasingly heavy.

I had reviewed over and over everything I could have done to prevent the tragic outcome, the same happened with Yuri, and I always came to the same conclusion: that I hadn't measured up.

Guilt is tough; it's that little voice full of reproach, constantly telling you everything you haven't done right. It eats away at you, corrodes you from the inside to the core of your emotions, without you being able to stop it. It coils around them and suffocates you until you have no other choice but to face it and realize that, no matter how much you've messed up, life neither stops nor waits for you. You become both engineer and passenger, as well as the only one with the power to decide whether you keep going or get off.

The tolls of guilt are usually expensive, and the longer you stay trapped in its car, the more difficult the journey back becomes.

It wasn’t until late in the afternoon that Nikita appeared with a smiling Adriano. My son seemed to have been wound up, and she, although still looking tired, had a special sparkle in her eye.

Why was that? Maybe because they had finally accepted each other. Just a couple of days without me had created an amazing complicity between them. My son couldn't stop singing her praises and confirming that "Aunt Nikita was his new heroine, who had gone after the demon from his nightmares and had taken care of it." Adriano mentioned that his aunt had given him a sort of little bottle containing the blood of the creature that had terrorized him in dreams, and that he should carry it to show that if it ever appeared again, Aunt Nikita would go after it, even if it was just a nightmare.

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