Page 68 of Collin: Episodes 13-15
Richard pressed his lips to Collin’s head again. “I would do it again. You and Émeric are everything to me. I just hoped you wouldn’t hate me afterwards.”
“Why would I hate you?”
“For speaking to you harshly, like you were beneath me, when I should have been comforting you.”
“You came for me, sir. You came for us. You lied for us. You found a way for us. You made another choice.”
“And you and Émeric fought for it.”
“Because it takes all of us, Master. You’d gone as far as you could. It was our turn.”
Collin’s mom visited several more times, each time looking more strained. She would check on Collin and then sit there in silence. After one of the thrice daily bug checks on the room, Collin turned his head to face her. “I’d like ice cream. The kind that comes in little tiny cups. They don’t have any here.”
She stared at him for a long time. “You want ice cream?” Her voice was flat.
“Yes.”
“You want me to go get you ice cream?” Her voice was still flat but this time with even more disbelief.
“Yes.” He held her stare, not backing down.
She stared some more, then looked at the wall, flicking her fingers nervously. “I’m not very good at this whole hospital thing, am I?”
Collin managed half a smile. Now that he was coming off the heaviest of the drugs, he could feel all the swelling in his face. Mirrors were his kryptonite. Seeing Richard’s face was bad enough, and Richard only had scratches and a little bruising. He hadn’t been repeatedly backhanded and punched like Collin and Émeric.
“Yes, Mom, you’re terrible at it. It’s not doing me or you any good to just sit here like this.”
“I want you to know I’m here for you.”
“I think you’ve done the requisite sitting for me to know. At this point, you’re torturing yourself.”
She sighed, stood, and closed the door. Richard was in the room, but he was either asleep or pretending to sleep. Exhaustion was a thing. Both Collin and Richard were napping more than staying awake.
“I know you know,” she whispered, not looking at him.
“What do you know?”
She waved vaguely, then crossed her arms over her chest. “They interviewed me. Not the police, other people. They wanted to know if I knew my dad…” Her voice broke.
Shit. Left to his own choices, he never would have told her. Collin reached out to offer comfort.
She flinched away from him. “There’s no fucking way to make this right. All this time…” She blinked hard, refusing to look at him. “I keep trying to find a way to apologize, and I don’t even know where to start. I don’t know if you even want me here anymore. I don’t know if they want me here.” She gestured vaguely toward Richard.
“What Mikhail did has nothing to do with you, Mom. You didn’t know.”
“But I am his daughter!”
Collin pushed himself more firmly up the bed, suppressing winces. He got the headboard behind his back and braced himself. “All that means is that you are your own person. If you have to feel guilt because you’re his daughter, then I have to feel guilt over what he did to me because I’m his grandson.”
She actually looked at him then, eyes wide and startled.
“Mikhail killed Dad. He said as much. We were cover, Mom, our whole family. Cover, as in camouflage, his pretend role for looking like a normal suburban family man: Grandma, you, Uncle, Auntie. All of us. Just cover. He didn’t love us. We were tools. We owe him nothing. We certainly don’t owe him guilt.”
She dragged in air in the form of a dry sob. “And Alice? Did he kill Alice too?”
“No. Alice is alive.”
“How do you know?”
