Page 151 of Red River

All the memories came rushing back: Thomas’s face, full of tears, confessing his love for me, and then… his last, quiet apologies, mumbled under his breath just hours before he died. He had told me his heart was hurting—and then he simply closed his eyes.

I forced myself to breathe. It was just so hard.

I tilted my head back, sobbing toward the sky, my heart breaking once more for my poor, late husband.

"You did it, Thomas," I whispered. "You gave it back to me."

For a few cleansing moments, I just cried, feeling something leave me—something heavy, bitter, coiled tight inside my chest, still lingering despite the happiness I had found over the past year.

Now, it felt like a true catharsis—a closing act. Thomas had given me that closure.

But then came the next thought.

The realization.

The suspicion.

Immediately, I stood up. The moment I turned away, there he was.

Snow was standing right behind me.

Our eyes met. His were calm, pale, and somehow… sad. Should I ask? Should I drag this question out of the shadows of the past? Should I hate him or thank him? Accuse him or bless him? Should I lash out or try to be a moral person?

"Did you tell Thomas to basically kill himself?"

My voice cracked—I barely recognized it. So I had chosen. But was it the right choice?

"He ate himself to death, Snow!" I groaned in despair.

My odd brother remained silent.

"Was it you, Snow?" I repeated, my voice fading along with my strength. "Tell me, please… I beg you."

His answer was calm and quiet.

"No, River. It wasn’t me."

I froze. We just stared at each other.

"Don’t lie! It has to be you! Only you could have known!"

"I never lie," he responded evenly, then turned away, walking back into the darkness of the garden.

I wanted to scream and cry, to throw things and break things. My emotions boiled over, erratic and strangely contradictory. It felt like dying and being born at the same time—suffering and orgasming, starving and overeating.

Chaos.

Too much.

I had to stop.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Phoenix watching me, his strange, bright gold eyes locked onto mine.

And just like that, there was silence. A long, deep silence.

My son stared at me without a sound, and slowly, I began to calm down.

Almost magically, the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall perfectly into place.

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