Page 12 of Broken

Dear Father Savio,

I failed.

I always write to you when one of my charges is freed. This was supposed to be a happy letter. Another success. But there’s no success to be found here.

Not today.

First, good news because it might stop my heart from breaking—over the years, I’ve shared Diana, Charles, and Li’s stories with you. Well, I have an update.

Diana’s living in Madrid with her husband—they have twin girls. Her father is still in jail and her mother killed herself. The shame of the town knowing she turned a blind eye to her husband’s actions was too much for her tostand. I should probably be ashamed that I’m the reason for her death, but I can’t regret sharing her sins with the world. Not after what Diana endured.

Charles won custody of the kids after divorcing his psycho ex. He also managed to get a restraining order against her.

The last time I contacted you, I’d just saved Li from her stalker who is still receiving psychiatric care in L.A. Li’s living in San Francisco now. She and her girlfriend are talking about moving in together.

They’re all happy because I SAW.

Then, I acted.

But Linda was different…

Normally, I notice something wrong with a charge, I befriend them, I work out what’s breaking them, and then I help them escape their tormentor.

But Linda lost faith in me.

When I got her away from her husband, I told her something that made her look at me differently, Father.

Maybe you’ll believe me, or maybe you’ll think I’m as crazy as she did.

What I showed her made her leave my house, where she was safe, and he was waiting to snatch her up.

They found her body today, Father.

And that’s on me.

“Only God can help me now,” were her last words to me before I failed her.

Maybe I AM crazy.

But I told her my truth: I have wings.

They’re there, Father. I can feel them. When I look in the mirror, I see THEM. They’re huge. Bright gold feathers that drag me down, so I’ve had to work out at the gym to counteract the burden on my back. It took a while, but I can hold them high.

I trusted her as much as she trusted me so I showed them to her.

That was when she feared me.

ME.

Who saw what no one else did. Who helped her escape.

But now she’s dead and it’s my fault because something turned her away from me, and if my wings don’t exist, then what are they?

When I felt their weight, it seemed as if my vocation was a gift. I never told you that was the reason why I came to believe I’m Nephilim. They are why I witness what others fail to see, why I act when they remain unaware, and why I need to offer help when everyone else ignores them.

I thought I was Nephilim, a Watcher, but this changes everything.

Every step I’ve taken held this belief paramount.

---