Page 91 of Silent Vendetta (Vendetta Duet)

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it? Because I haven’t seen a huge uprising like there was when that kid was killed twenty years ago. Granted, that was a teenager, and my father was a grown man, but still. This took place right outside the courthouse, where judges and law enforcement officers spend their days.”

“Look, I understand that you’re upset, but putting yourself—”

“Upset isn’t even in the same hemisphere as what I’m feeling.”

Rinaldi’s lips tightened.

“Look, I’m sorry for being rude,” I managed. “But I’ve run out of energy to be polite. We both know how this is going to go, so please. Save yourself the energy of trying to convince me otherwise.”

“Luna, if you do this, you might put yourself in danger.”

“From the person that killed my father? According to themultiplethreats I handed over to you, I already am.”

“Luna, listen to me. Whoever killed your father clearly believed he was still a threat.”

“Yeah, and I think I know why,” I said. “You’ll hear it in my eulogy.”

Tense silence thickened the air between us.

“Be that as it may, they probably think that threat died with your father, or you would have been shot, too.”

“Or I was shoved to the ground so fast by Hunter, they failed to finish the job.”

“But if you declare war on them, they’ll see you as a threat, too.”

“I underestimated the threat against my father. So, I know full well doing this might poke a beehive, but whoever did this tried to control me and my dad through fear. I’m not going to let them control me anymore.”

I watched the people taking their seats, wondering if the murderer was among them. There were colleagues of mine, lawyers, including Elizabeth Wood. Mayor Kepler made a brief, cursory appearance and had already left. Then there was Hunter’s family—his brothers Grayson, Jace, and Bryson, as well as Hunter’s uncle Alexander, making small talk with other funeral patrons. Sean sat one row over, having given me a hug and profuse apologies that we had an argument right before Dad was killed.

“The only thing that matters now is finding my father’s killer. If you’ll excuse me, I have a eulogy to give.”

The funeral started like any other, I suppose. Hunter sat to my right, lacing his warm fingers through mine in a warm reminder that I wasn’t alone in my hell.

No matter how much it felt like I was.

When the time came for me to give my speech, I walked to the little white podium and looked out at the too-small crowd.

Relatives of my father sat in the back row with my mother—who I couldn’t stomach talking to just yet. I wondered if they sat in the back because they felt guilty for having believed in Dad’s guilt for two decades. The angry part of me hoped they felt like crap because of it. The compassionate part of me was grateful they had enough respect for his life to say their goodbyes.

The beginning of my eulogy was typical for a funeral, recalling stories of my father’s love for me when I was a little girl. I branched into the pain that he had suffered over the last two decades, being imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit.

And then…

“Dad…” At the sight of the casket, I had to force the lump in my throat to shrink so I could speak. “I’m glad that in your final moments of life, you had finally found the joy that had eluded you for twenty years. I’m grateful that you were excited about your future.”

I looked at the audience, keeping my face stern just in case the murderer sat among them.

“Someone took my father’s future. My guess is, it’s because my dad could identify the person he’d seen in that alley shortly after that teenage boy was killed.”

Hushed whispers of shock rippled through the attendees.

“The person must have realized that during the prep for a new trial, all evidence would be re-examined. Closely, especially with the new evidence we uncovered.”

More murmurs.

“They got away with it two decades ago, but that was all about to change, wasn’t it?”

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