The drive back home was a war zone of emotions guilt clawed at my conscience while hesitation tightened its grip around my throat. My hands were steady on the wheel, but my mind was anything but.
Should I tell my lovely wife, Amilea, the truth? Should I let her into the darkness I've sealed away? Or should I keep the cockroaches locked in the jar sealed tight, festering where no light could reach?
Each mile brought me closer to home and deeper into turmoil. The memories I had tried so hard to bury were scratching their way to the surface. I never thought I'd be this torn over a past I thought was dead. But now, it felt alive breathing, watching, waiting.
Am I really losing myself? I muttered, half-laughing, half-breaking, speaking to no one but the heavy air around me.
I was scared. Scared that my silence would endanger the very people I love. Scared that my truth could shatter the fragile peace we built. And most of all, scared that I might already be too late.
The past is the past and it can't be erased. What a cruel truth that is. I've come to learn that a single action can brand you forever, shaping who you are in the eyes of the world… and worse, in your own. But now's not the time to look weak, not in front of my precious family. I have to be strong for their sake, if not mine.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my thoughts as loud as the roaring engine. As I neared the driveway, I pressed the horn a small ritual I've kept alive through the years. It was my way of saying, "I'm home." A signal. A promise. And just like always, I knew the sound would draw them out, my beautiful girls. The thought of their eager little feet running toward me brought a bittersweet ache to my chest. Even in the shadow of guilt, the light of their love still reached me.
I pulled into the garage slowly, heart pounding not from fear this time, but from the hope of holding on to the only good thing I have left.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Their voices rang out like a song I never wanted to stop hearing. In that instant, the weight of my thoughts melted away. There they were—my little angels, sprinting toward me with those pretty, sparkling blue eyes and beaming smiles that could brighten the darkest corners of my soul.
I crouched down, arms wide open, just in time to catch them as they crashed into me with the force of all their tiny love. "Well, hello, my angels! How are my princesses doing today?" I asked with a grin, already bracing myself. I knew what was coming.
It was our thing our moment. The post-work debrief, as I liked to call it. Without fail, they'd unload every little complaint and tale about what Mommy did while I was away. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Amilea stayed home by my choice. I didn't want her stressed by some office job I wanted her safe, cared for. And these little stories, these adorable dramatics? They were proof she was doing an amazing job.
As expected, Aurora my ever-jovial chatterbox jumped right in, throwing her hands in the air. "Daddy! Mommy wouldn't let us eat the second cookie even though we were still hungry!" she huffed, as if she'd just lived through a tragedy.
I chuckled, pulling her closer. "Oh no, not the second cookie ban again! We'll have to launch an official investigation."
"Daddy, can you believe it?" Aurora huffed, her little eyebrows scrunched together in the most dramatic frown she could manage. "Mom didn't let me finish my Barbie Dream House show the new one! I haven't even seen that episode yet!"
She crossed her arms and pouted, puffing out her cheeks. "And then—then—she took my iPad away because I got one question wrong in my classwork at school!"
I tried to keep a straight face, but watching her tiny body fume with such seriousness, eyes blazing with righteous frustration, it was impossible not to chuckle. Her angry face was more adorable than anything else.
I leaned down and brushed her hair back. "Well, Aurora, Mommy knows best. She's only doing what's good for you, love. Be happy she cares that much, okay? But next time, don't fail a question," I said, raising an eyebrow teasingly. "Or I might just unsubscribe your iPad from the Barbie channel myself."
Her mouth dropped open in sheer horror. "Daddy, nooo! That's not fair! It was only one question!"
"I know, sweetheart. That's all the more reason to cut back on screen time, don't you think?" I said, tapping her nose with a grin.
Aurora gave a dramatic sigh, her arms flopping to her sides. The half-hearted smile tugging at her lips betrayed her seriousness she was trying so hard to stay mad, but she couldn't quite pull it off.
I smiled to myself, heart full. She reminded me so much of Amilea fiery, expressive, and beautiful in every way.
While Aurora was still passionately defending her case, Astrid stood silently by my side, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. She didn't jump into the noise or wave her hands around. No, Astrid was always the quieter one the soft whisper in a world full of shouting.
When the moment calmed, she tugged gently at my sleeve and looked up at me with those calm, thoughtful eyes.
"Daddy…" she said barely above a whisper. "Can you… can you maybe get me more snacks for school? I couldn't share with my friends today because… there wasn't enough."
My heart clenched a little at her simple request. She wasn't complaining. She wasn't even sad just… quiet about it. Like it wasn't worth bothering me over. But to me, it meant everything.
I knelt in front of her and smiled. "Of course, sweetheart. I'll get you double, alright? You should always have enough to share. You don't even have to ask."
She gave me the tiniest nod, a soft smile flickering across her face before she leaned in for a hug. Astrid didn't ask for much never did and maybe that's what made every word from her feel like a treasure.
After attending to my girls in the garage, we all headed toward the main house. Once inside, I made my way to my love, who was in the living room pretending to be engrossed in the show she was watching. I knew she didn't even like that show she was a telenovela lover, not a fan of blockbusters.
"Hello, pretty. How are you doing?" I asked with a smile.
Amilea didn't answer me at first, and I instantly knew why I was getting the silent treatment. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I walked closer to her.
"Come on, love… you know how much I adore the girls," I said gently, crouching beside her. "But I'm sorry for not coming to kiss you the moment I got home. You deserve that… always."
She turned to me with that familiar spark in her eyes, the corners of her lips curling into a teasing smile.
"So, what are you waiting for?" she said, her voice playful. "A written invitation?"
Without another word, I leaned in and kissed her, pouring my guilt, affection, and apology into that single moment.
"Welcome home, love. Dinner's ready," Amilea said with a warm smile.
I wasn't really hungry not after everything with Leo earlier but I've never missed dinner with my family. No matter how heavy my heart felt, this time together meant everything. Still, I tried to ease into it gently.
"Thanks, babe. Just something light, please. I'm a bit tired tonight," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
Knowing Amilea, I could feel her eyes reading between every word, every pause.
"Is something troubling you?" she asked, her tone soft but probing.
"Ohhh, no, no nothing at all," I replied quickly, maybe a little too quickly, as I made my way to the dining table.
I could tell she didn't buy it. That only deepened her curiosity I saw it in her eyes but strangely, she let it slide. That wasn't like her. Normally she'd dig deeper, press until I gave something up. But tonight? She just watched me. And somehow, that made me even more uneasy. Still, I was grateful for the space.
We sat down to eat in the warm, dimly lit dining room. The comforting aroma of roasted chicken and steamed vegetables hung in the air. Amilea had set the table with our best china again her way of saying she still cares, no matter what.
The girls chattered excitedly about their day, their bright voices filling the silence I couldn't speak into.
"I really need to leave the house more. I think I'm getting homesick from being here too much," Amilea said playfully as she served the food.
"You can go wherever you want, love. This isn't a prison," I replied with a grin. "All I ask is that you don't take up a job. I'm more than capable of providing for my family. Your boutique's already managed, and you can visit whenever you like. I even got you two cars, so if you're bored blame yourself for being lazy!"
That got the girls giggling, and even Amilea couldn't hide her smile. But in mock offense, she crossed her arms.
"Well then, maybe I won't make breakfast tomorrow morning."
Immediately, the dining table turned into a storm of compliments.
"You're the best mom!"
"No one cooks like you!"
"You're beautiful!"
"You're the queen of breakfast!"
We all chimed in, desperate to win her back, laughing like a bunch of kids caught red-handed. And just like that, her smile returned.
"Fine," she said with a fake sigh. "You're all forgiven. Dinner tonight will be wonderful... but don't think I won't get you all back later."
I caught the eye of my girls and gave them the look our secret signal that we were definitely in trouble later. They giggled and whispered like little co-conspirators.
It was finally time to eat, and though my heart was heavy, this moment, this laughter... it reminded me why I had to stay strong why I had to protect them, no matter the cost.
Just as I was about to lift my fork, Astride, quiet as ever, gently reminded us, "Daddy, we have to pray first."
I paused, smiling at her. That soft, shy voice always carried the most unexpected strength. Truth be told, I wasn't very religious. I believed in God and in Jesus Christ, yes but my faith had wavered. Especially after what I'd been through. When I needed Him the most, He hadn't shown up. Or maybe I just couldn't see Him. Still… who was I to argue with the quiet faith of my little girl?
We all bowed our heads, closing our eyes as Astride began to speak.
"Dear heavenly Father," she said, her voice clear and sincere, "we thank you for the food you provided and thank you for our happy family. We ask for your continued blessings… Amen."
"Amen," we all echoed in unison.
For a brief moment, everything felt still. Whole. Safe. And as I opened my eyes to the smiling faces around the table, I couldn't help but wonder how long I could protect that peace… or if I even deserved to.
Our meals were always eaten in quiet respect I insisted on good table manners but tonight, the silence felt heavier than usual. After a while, I was full, the food settling heavily in my stomach, but my mind was far from at ease. I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment alone.
As I stepped away, I turned back and caught a glimpse of my precious family gathered around the table their laughter, their warmth, their innocence and a sharp pang hit me deep in my chest. I asked myself quietly, almost desperate, "Do I really want this to end?"
The question lingered like a shadow, twisting inside me, because part of me feared the truth I was running from how fragile this happiness really was.
I couldn't even answer that question. I just wanted to be free from the constant plague of guilt that haunted me every waking moment. But deep down, I knew the consequences of what I was about to do. My mind flashed back to a phrase Big Boss Danvore always said: "When you walk with the devil, don't expect to be free or happy only guilt and self-gain. But as shitty as it sounds, we still pay a price." He always ended that with his chilling, diabolical laughter.
Snapping back to reality, I asked myself, Am I really ready to let go of everything I've worked for because of this guilt?
"No. I'm not telling Amilea. No way in hell," I growled, punching the wall in my bedroom, grinding my teeth in frustration. I knew that by keeping this secret, I'd be trapping myself prisoner to my own past. But I'd rather live in that prison than lose her.
I sank into the tub filled with warm water, desperate to calm the storm inside me. The guilt clawed at my chest, suffocating, but for now, silence was all I could find.
After I stepped out of the bathroom, I made my way toward the large sitting room. From there, I could hear the catchy theme of Paw Patrol playing on the TV. I caught the tune instantly had it memorized from singing along with my girls countless times. Feeling playful, I shouted the ending part of the song in a hilariously off-key voice, hoping to grab their attention. But they were already fast asleep. Thank God Amilea had already left the room I don't think I could have recovered from that embarrassing solo performance.
I gently carried my twins upstairs to their room. It was always my job to see them off to bed a responsibility I gladly gave myself. Their room was huge, almost the size of my living room, decorated with bright cartoon characters and scattered with toys everywhere, thanks to the upgrade I promised and kept . My favorite spot was the little table set I'd bought for their make-believe tea parties whenever I visited. I tucked them into their bunk beds with a smile, the softness of their breathing finally calming my restless mind.
Back downstairs, I settled into the living room to watch the 10 PM news. I rarely stayed up this late, but it was the weekendI allowed myself the indulgence before joining Amilea, who was already fast asleep.
I entered the bedroom, where the low hum of soul music played softly a ritual I kept to drown out the tormenting thoughts that roamed my mind at night. I'd chosen every detail of this room myself: the tastefully painted walls, the stunning city view from the window, the two cozy couches, and even the little refrigerator stocked with non-alcoholic drinks because I don't drink.
As I walked to the cupboard, I opened a hidden compartment containing the documents transferring all of Big Boss Danvore's properties to my name. I had it allfinally. Yet, holding the papers in my hands, I felt nothing but a deep unease.
I don't want to lose this, I thought, glancing at Amilea's peaceful face, glowing softly in her nightwear. I will not.
A sob caught in my throat as I closed the compartment, desperate for some wayany way to break free from this prison without losing her. I walked over and gently planted a kiss on her forehead.
Collapsing onto the bed, my body wracked with silent sobs, I felt her hands on my shoulders steady and warm the only thing keeping me grounded amid the storm inside.
It was just a dream. A nightmare. But it felt real. Too real.
I was running through a dark alley, the kind where even shadows seemed to whisper. The sound of footsteps echoed behind me taunting, precise, like someone mimicking my every move. Cold sweat trickled down my face, stinging my eyes. My chest rose and fell in rapid bursts. My heart thudded like a jackhammer in overdrive.
And then I saw it.
Right there in front of me the reason I turned to the dark abyss. The moment that twisted my fate forever. But this time... I wasn't the victim.
I was the executioner.
I stood there, trembling, facing the scene I thought I had buried.
And across from me stood someone me.
Or something that looked like me.
He stared at me with a face I recognized, only it was hollow literally. There were gaping holes where his eyes should've been, and blood seeped from them like tears, trailing down his cheeks in thick, dark streams.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't look away.
His expression was disturbing twisted into something that almost looked like joy. He laughed. Low and broken, as if he found pleasure in his agony.
I snapped.
I lunged at him, fists flying, screaming through my teeth. We fought at least, I tried. Every punch passed through him like smoke, useless, meaningless. I was fighting a reflection of my own guilt.
And it was winning.
I shoved him back with everything I had, trying to run.
Trying to escape myself.
But it was pointless.
He caught me. He always catches me.
Then came his voice—my voice, only colder, rougher.
"You really think taking innocent lives comes without regret?"
"No—it wasn't me," I cried, my voice breaking, eyes burning. "Big Boss Danvore made me do it! I didn't have a choice! It wasn't me!"
Tears poured down my face uncontrollably, my body shaking.
"Oh, so you believe that now?" he said, stepping closer, dragging his bloody feet on the concrete. "You were just following orders, right? Pulled the trigger without even blinking, and now you hide in your fairy tale life of peace and quiet?"
He scoffed, his face contorting.
"Lies. All of it."
His voice cut through the air like a serrated blade.
"You say the past is done? That you've moved on?"
He leaned in closer, the smell of rot choking the space between us. Blood dripped from his hollow face onto mine, thick and warm.
"You turned a new leaf? You're sorry?"
His tone mocked me like the word itself was poison on his tongue.
"You didn't do it on purpose?" he sneered.
"I... I didn't mean to…" I whispered, my voice barely audible through the panic gripping my chest.
"SHUT UP!"
He roared with a force that shattered my breath. It wasn't just sound it was punishment. It was metal scraping bone, raw and merciless.
"All of it—for what? Revenge? That filthy, worthless revenge."
His face twisted into something unholy. "And now look at you. Just a man with a dark, gaping hole in his chest. And no joy—none—will ever fill it."
I collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Every word dug into me like nails.
"Please… I don't want to lose them. Amilea... my girls... If they ever found out… they'd hate me forever."
He crouched slowly, like a beast circling prey. His bleeding sockets met mine—empty, endless, accusing.
"You won't lose them," he said. "You'll just be gone. For a while."
His tone shifted—dark and seductive, like the whisper of a noose tightening around my neck.
"But if you don't face the truth now... if you keep hiding behind your 'second chance'...
You'll pay the ultimate price."
He rose again, towering above me like death itself in human skin.
"And that price, my friend..."
A chilling smile broke across his shredded face.
"Is not negotiable."
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. My face was a wreck—drenched in sweat and tears, my body trembling, broken. The world blurred into black.
"Remember…"
His final words came like a curse whispered from the grave.
"Blood never sleeps. It hunts. It remembers. And it always finds the one who spilled it no matter the excuse."
I tried to speak anything but
BANG!
Before I could utter another word, he shot me.
Point-blank. Straight in the head.
---
I woke up screaming.
My body jerked upright in bed, drenched in sweat. My chest heaved violently, gasping for breath.
Beside me, Amilea shot up, alarmed, her voice calling out but I didn't hear it.
All I could hear...
was the echo of my own gunshot.
My whole body trembled like a child left out in the cold. I couldn't form a single clear thought. I just kept repeating one thing under my breath, over and over:
"I can't lose my family... I can't lose my family..."
I didn't even realize Amilea's hand was on my shoulder, trying to steady me. My mind was still stuck in the nightmare stuck in him. That hollow-eyed version of me. The truth. The guilt.
Then I turned to her, and my tears came freely.
"I can't go on like this," I whispered, voice cracking. "I have to be free."
Amilea's brows drew together in confusion. "Free from what?" she asked gently.
I met her eyes, and for the first time, I didn't look away.
"I know what kind of job you do... and what it is you're after."
Her body stiffened.
Then she jolted upright, scrambling off the bed like she'd just seen a ghost. Her voice trembled, almost unrecognizable.
"W-What do you mean... the kind of job I do? What I'm after?"
I smiled through the pain.
"Don't worry," I said, softly. "I've known since the beginning. From the moment I saw you. But I guess... love really is as powerful as they say."
Her face paled. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"I heard the call this evening," I continued. "You were speaking with the Director. You asked for more time."
Her lips parted slightly. Shock. Guilt. Fear. It was all written on her face now.
"But I'll grant you your request now," I said, slowly extending my hand toward her, palm open not threatening, just... surrendering.
She took a cautious step back.
"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "And what request are you talking about?"
I could see the fear in her eyes and I didn't blame her. Anyone would be scared in this moment. Seeing someone fall apart right in front of them. Seeing the cracks in the life we built.
But I meant what I said.
"It's okay, my love," I murmured, my voice low and tired. "I promise... I won't hurt you."
"You don't have to do this, you know," Amilea said softly.
Her voice was laced with concern, but beneath the calm, I could see it the fear flickering behind her eyes like a candle in a storm. Still, she was trying. Trying to stay strong. For me.
"I can see you're really trying hard to cope with the nightmare you just had," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "Whatever it was… it shook you."
She was right. It did shake me. More than I wanted to admit.
Her fear was quiet but real. And I knew that feeling all too well it's the kind of fear that camps out in the back of your mind, whispering worst-case scenarios, never letting you sleep easy. I saw it in her now. I felt it in myself every day.
But who was I to judge?
My face was drenched in sweat, my hands still trembling, my breath still unsteady. My heart was already breaking because I knew what came next.
This revelation… this truth… would change everything.
It would pierce our lives like a dagger straight through the chest.
But it had to be said. Now.
"I'm going to tell you about my past," I finally said, my voice low, almost hollow. "You've always asked why I never talk about it why I have no parents, no friends, no relatives I keep close."
Amilea sat still, eyes wide, her worried look deepening with each word. She didn't interrupt. She just waited, bracing herself for what she somehow already knew would be irreversible.
I stared at the floor for a moment. A long moment. Like I was staring into a bottomless pit.
Then I looked at her again.
"Let's dive into the abyss," I whispered. "You deserve to know."
I leaned back, inhaled deeply, as if preparing to rip open a wound that had never fully healed.
"Let me tell you the story… of Travour Woods.