Page 96 of The Dirty Saint

“Take me instead.”

Michael removes the scalpel from Lana’s skin, turning his head in our direction. “You would really sacrifice yourself for her?”

Ezra doesn’t even hesitate.

“Yes.”

“Well,” Michael wipes away one of Lana’s tears. “Life doesn’t quite work out in our favor.”

And with that, he plunges the scalpel right into her eye, killing her instantly.

“NO!” Ezra howls, her cheeks growing wet with moisture. “NO!”

She drops down to the ground, her chains clinking together, sobs clawing through her throat.

“Fuck you!” she hisses.

“Youdid this to Lana’s son, Ezra,” he proclaims. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

23

Chapter Twenty-Three

After

EZRA

I didn’t forget it.

I wish I could, though. Wish I could burn it from my memory.

But I can’t.

“I am so sorry, Lana,” I stare up at the ceiling. “I am so sorry that I couldn’t deliver on my promises. It should’ve been me.”

I pull a photograph out of my bottom desk drawer, the twinge in my heart growing.

They were such a beautiful family.

At this moment, I know what I have to do. No matter how tough or painful, Ihaveto do this.

Starting up my car, I fix my hair and tie it into a ponytail. I rub my eyes, trying to piece together in my mind what I should say. When I open them and catch my reflection in the rearview mirror, I have to take a pause.

I look so old, almost like I’ve been doused in years of pain.

No, Ezra. Don’t cry. You’ve cried enough.

But today is not about me. Today is about hopefully providing some sense of closure to people who will always have questions that can never be answered. Today is about expressing pride for a woman whose strength will stick with me for the rest of my life.

Pulling into the small driveway, I grab the cookies I made from the backseat. A huge part of me wanted to drink until I couldn’t feel anything, but that would probably only wind up making me feel worse in the end.

I notice the car in the corner covered in dirt. It doesn’t look like it’s been driven in a while.

Maybe it was Lana’s.

Taking a deep breath, I make my way over to the door, where I ring the bell and wait. Once I hear the knob twist, there is officially no going back.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly. “Is this the Pipperty house?”

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