Page 163 of Can You Take It?

I have no idea what the future holds, but for the first time in years, I feel like I’m doing something right. I’m choosing love, choosingher. And fuck, if that isn’t the best decision I’ve ever made.

EPILOGUE

IZEL

I’m sitting on my bed with the laptop balanced on my knees, watching Richard’s confession that aired over two months ago. His gaze burns into mine from the screen, even though he’s not really looking at me. My heart does a dive into my stomach as he confesses to murdering Victor. It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room every time I re-watch it. So many questions swirl in my mind. How did his gun even get into the interrogation room? That wasn’t the plan. I never wanted to frame him.

Richard did this for me. But why? He didn’t need to take the fall. He sacrificed everything, and here I am, unsure of where he is or what he’s going through. Is he in prison? I contemplate texting him, but I don’t even know where to start. I’ve thought about confessing to Victor’s murder myself, but what good would that do until I confront Richard and understand why he did it?

I tried reaching out to Martin for help, but he’s not exactly in a cooperative mood. He’s furious with me for painting myselfas a target. He’s currently lounging in Aruba, miles away from any computer that could give me a lead. He’s made it clear that he’s not going to hack into the FBI’s cameras or dig up any more details for me. He's too pissed for that.

So, all I’m left with is the local news, and it’s not exactly overflowing with useful information. I’m stuck piecing together scraps of reports and rumors, and none of it is making me feel any closer to understanding what’s happening.

“Izzie?” My mom’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I look up to see her standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, Mom?” I reply, closing the laptop.

We’re still rebuilding our relationship in this new environment. We chose to stay at the Montclair manor. Grandma wanted to spend her remaining days with her children, and Mom thought it was a good idea to stay together. She didn’t want to be alone, and neither did I, honestly.

Mom walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. “You were watching it again, weren’t you?”

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. “I can’t help it. I have so many questions.”

She reaches out, taking my hand in hers. “I know, sweetheart. But you need to let it go.”

“I just don’t understand why he did it,” I say. “He didn’t need to protect me like that.”

“You really care about him, don’t you?” she asks gently.

“More than I can even explain. He’s everything to me.”

Mom nods, understanding. “Love is complicated, Izzie. But if he’s worth it, you’ll find a way.”

“I just... I don’t know what to do,” I confess. “Part of me wants to confess to everything, but then I’d lose the chance to confront him, to understand why he did what he did.”

“Maybe you need to trust that he had his reasons,” Mom suggests.

“I know,” I sigh. “I just wish I could talk to him or at least just make a decision.”

“Making decisions comes naturally to you when you know what you want.”

I glance at her, sensing the weight behind her words, the unspoken truth threading between us. Is she hinting at the decision she had to make back then—the one that kept her awake at night? Choosing who would stay in the basement. Or what was supposed to be a basement considering I burned it down. I couldn’t stand to have it beneath me anymore, like some ghost clawing at my feet every time I tried to take a breath.

I never wanted to leave this house, not really. But the basement? That was a part of me I had to destroy.

“Was it hard?”

I’m not sure I want to go there, not sure if I want to know why she chose me and not Isla to be in the basement with her.

Mom takes a deep breath, her eyes reflecting the pain of old memories. “When I held you, I instantly knew I was holding the strongest girl ever known to anyone,” she begins. “It wasn’t about loving Isla more. It was about survival. I knew you could endure it. I knew you could fight. Isla... she wasn’t strong in the same way. She needed protection in a different form.”

“Every time I looked at you, I saw this fire, this strength that I never had. It scared me sometimes, how much you had to bear, but it also gave mehope. You gave me a reason to live. Isla was delicate, like a flower that needed shelter from the storm. You were the storm. It tore me apart inside, making that choice, but I knew it was the only way either of you had a chance. Every day I prayed I made the right decision, that you’d forgive me someday.”

Tears well up in my eyes, and I can’t hold them back. I nod, trying to convey all the love and understanding I feel for her. Before I can say more, the doorbell rings, startling us both.

“I’ll get it,” I say, setting my laptop aside and wiping my eyes quickly. I walk to the front door and open it and find Wilson standing there. His expression is serious, and for a moment, fear grips me. He’s here to arrest me. But what scares me more is the thought that I’ll never see Richard again.

We just stand there, staring at each other. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. My mother’s voice breaks the silence. “What’s wrong, Izzie? Who is at the—” She stops mid-sentence, her breath catching. “Will?”