Page 53 of The Wondrous Life and Loves of Nella Carter
“Do you see me gloating?” He stared, daring her to look away first. “This brings me no joy. It only proves my belief. You thought him good—one of the redeemable ones—and look what he was capable of.”
“Did you know it would come to this?” she asked quietly. “When it began?”
“That he would hurt you?” He leaned his head against the bed frame. “You know what I think. They will always hurt you in the end.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Nella asked, wiping her face against the sheets.
“He has a disease. It will eat at him, consuming him steadily. His brother is similarly afflicted. But he’ll find his end before the disease takes him.”
“So that’s what will kill him? The vials?” she asked.
“The vials,” Death confirmed.
They were quiet as the dark-blue sky eased into light. It was another day for both of them.
“Do you still believe in the goodness of man? Believe their lives are worth your suffering?”
“It’s not always like this,” Nella said.
“The longer you go on, the more of this you will face.” Death turned to her. “I can make it simple. Say the word, and I can take away all your pain. All of this will cease to exist. I can ... I can take you with me, into a better world.”
Was there truly a better world than this one out there? Why wasn’t it enough to askthis oneto change? She glanced at the papers on the table, copies of all her published pieces from the past several decades, all the stories she’d been collecting, still collecting, the ones that had brought her a measure of joy and peace. Were they enough? Would they outweigh the actions of one man?
She swallowed, her throat constricting painfully. “I know what you came here for, but I can’t give it to you—not tonight.”
Death studied her as if he could see into her soul. “Not tonight then, but one day.”
“Why are you so convinced that I’ll lose? Has my work shown you nothing?”
“Your work has shown me pockets of potential, but humans can only wound, Nella. They destroy what they touch, only building it again for future destruction. It’s in their nature—and one day, your love for them will destroy you.”
She closed her eyes, probably wishing she could close her ears to the truth of his words. “I know you don’t believe it, but there will always be someone worth saving.”
“That may very well be true,” Death conceded, “but perhaps you’ll grow tired of the sacrifice.”
“Well, that day isnottoday,” she said with finality.
Death rose, pausing only to collect the newest pages spread across her desk, the ink still fresh, and slipped away, leaving as the first rays of light spilled across her sheets.
One day ... he would be right.
Present Day
Savannah, June
Sixteen
Sebastian settles next to me, placing a cup of peppermint tea in my hands—the heat soothing. I sip gratefully, my throat raw from talking for hours.
“You’ve got to be tired,” he says, glancing at his watch. “It’s half past one in the morning. We can always stop if you want.”
“I am exhausted, but I’ve tried to bury all these memories for so long that now it’s—it’s like they’re all sprouting up at once, waiting for their turn to be shared. I’m willing to keep going if you are.”
“Are they all bad, like your last time seeing René?”
I shake my head. “There’s plenty of bad. It still hurts sometimes. Feels almost as fresh as it did then.”
“I imagine it’s like ripping off a million and one Band-Aids.”
