The Sixth Kind Chapter 10

The Sixth Kind Chapter 10

The cops swarmed Vincent. Put him on the ground. Cuffed him.

Thomas, who’d been trying to attack Vincent, went limp. He crawled toward me on his knees,

sobbing.

“Grace–I’m sorry. I did it to protect you. I pretended to be crazy. I pushed you away–all of

it–to keep you safe.”

I stepped back. Away from his grasping hands.

I looked at this pathetic, weeping man. And I felt nothing. No rage. Just cold.

“You want to protect me? Then stop lying. Stop hiding behind excuses.”

“Mr. Clark–if you really wanted to protect me–you would’ve gone to the police ten years ago. Instead, you let my sister die of thirst. You watched me suffer for a decade.”

Thomas’s lips trembled.

“That stray cat you tortured–the one you killed as some twisted ‘warning’–her name was Lily. That was my sister’s name.”

Thomas went rigid.

“You killed her twice.” I looked at him. This pathetic, selfish, cowardly man.

“Thomas Clark–how did hell miss you?”

He opened his mouth–but nothing came out.

The cops pulled him to his feet. Cuffed him next to Vincent. Led them both out.

Heavy footsteps faded down the hall.

Ten years of nightmare–over.

Edmund handed me a tissue. Put a hand on my shoulder.

“You did good, Grace. You stared into the dark. And it didn’t swallow you. Ten years–and

you didn’t let the hate win. You became what you needed to be.”

“Your search is over. Put down the rock, Grace. You’re not Sisyphus anymore.”

Edmund’s voice was warm. Steady.

“I look forward to seeing the light you bring to this field.”

I took the tissue. Wiped my eyes.

Sunlight streamed through the barred window. Dust floating in the air.

The ten-year nightmare–done. Over.

The day the case closed–it rained. Soft.

I stood at her grave with a black umbrella. A handful of cliff fireweed–ones I’d picked

myself from the cliffs. Her little canteen–the one she’d carried that day.

I knelt. Unscrewed the cap. Poured the water out. Slow. Steady.

The rain-soaked earth drank it in. Soft little sounds–like it was thirsty.

Like that little girl trapped in the mine–finally getting what she’d been denied.

Through the rain and tears–I saw her.

The navy uniform. The ponytail.

Her face turned up to the sky. Rain on her cheeks. Swallowing. Free.

She looked at me. Eyes crinkling into that familiar grin.

“Hey sis–the water’s so good. I got your flowers. Don’t be mad anymore, okay?”

I reached for her through the rain. My fingers touched nothing but cold spring air.

“I’m not mad anymore, Lily.”

I put the flowers on the grave. Rain rolling off the petals.

Like her laugh. That last day. That clean, happy face.

“The monsters are gone, Lily. Drink whenever you want. Eat whenever you want.”

“Big sister’s here. I’m not going anywhere.”