Page 100 of The Quiet Tenant

“I wish this party thing didn’t have to happen right here,” Cecilia tells you the next afternoon, when it’s just the two of you.

I know,you tell her in your head.But if only you knew. It’s going to be magnificent.

You let her speak. “Kinda wish it didn’t have to happen at all. I know people are trying to be nice, but…”

Her voice trails off.

“I get it,” you tell her. “I don’t love crowds, either.”

She nods. “Honestly, I think I’ll slip back to my room whenever I can. Take a break, you know?”

It’s your turn to nod.

I get it, kiddo. I remember what it’s like to need a break.

—

YOU GO BACKdownstairs. Don’t look at the photos—they’ll suck the life out of you, and you have none left to waste.

It’s the gun you’re interested in. Pick it up. Feel the weight of it in your hand. Get used to it. Try to insert a magazine. Get it wrong. Try again. You’ve never done this before, but no one has to know.

With the gun nestled against your palm, a power rises through you. You could do so many things. Sneak up on him in his sleep. Aim and pull the trigger. How many bullets would it take? One, if it lands correctly. Two, three, five. You have no idea.

That is not what you want. Blood on the bedsheets. Brain matter on his pillow. Cecilia running from the other end of the hallway, tripping over herself, sleepy, startled. A sight she would never forget—her father’s body and the pistol still warm in your hand. And you? You would just go to jail. Trapped again.

You know what the world has to offer to people like you. The best you can hope for: Him, alive, in an orange jumpsuit. A courthouse, chains around his wrists and ankles. Newspaper headlines telling the world what he did. It’s not quite right, and you’re not sure you want any of it. But it’s the only option, and you will have to take it.

Here, in the house, for the first time—for the only time—you get to decide for yourself.

What you want: A way to exist in the world, after. A life that doesn’t involve waking up every night, haunted by the memory of the man you killed. Because it would haunt you, to kill him. You are not him. You will never be him.

—

HE HAS SHAPEDhis daughter’s life so that it revolves around him, and one day he will be taken from her. The life he has given her is built on shallow graves, and the dead will rise and turn the ground under her feet upside down.

At dinner, she is happy. Happy enough. She spent most of the day reading. She taught Rosa a new trick. So far, she has scored five correct answers onJeopardy!Maybe tonight gives her hope. Maybe tonight tells her that life will one day be joyful again.

At the dinner table, she turns to you. Something in her dims. Ashamed, you would guess, of her own buoyancy.

It’s okay,you want to tell her.You should be happy. You deserve to be happy. You’re just a kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.

You deserve to grow up without having to think about any of this. You are a girl. Life will teach you about bad guys soon enough.

One day, you will learn your father was one of them.

She will need someone to blame. Because she will hurt, and when you hurt it helps to know who did it. If you had known, that night at the club, maybe you would have been able to stay in the city. If you had been given a face and a name. A singular person instead of a hostile world. You would have healed, and you would never have met her dad. Your life would still be your own.

She will need someone to blame, and if it’s not him, then it will have to be you.

Cecilia. I’m so sorry for what I’m about to do to you.

I’m so sorry for what I’m about to do to your life.

Maybe one day you’ll understand.

I hope you’ll know I did it all for you.

—

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