Chapter 12
Laria's façade crumbled. "Please, Hektor, don't hurt me," she sobbed, mascara streaming down her face.
Hektor swayed, his shirt crimson. He seemed oblivious to her pleas, plunging the knife into her stomach repeatedly. Blood spattered across my face and clothes.
Kira burst through the doorway at the sound, freezing mid-step, her hand flying to her mouth at the carnage. Only when Laria collapsed did Hektor stop. He turned to me, his eyes fevered and unfocused.
"She can't hurt you anymore," he whispered, eerily calm. "I killed her... for your mother. For you. That's what you wanted... right? Am I forgiven now?"
His legs buckled, and he crumpled, dropping the knife. His blood-slicked hand reached toward me. Slowly, I walked forward.
A flicker of desperate hope lit his face as I leaned down, my lips almost brushing his ear. "I will never forgive you," I whispered softly. "Not in this lifetime or any other."
The light in his eyes died. He closed them as his body slumped onto the concrete.
Hektor didn't die that day. The police reached him in time to save his life, though not his mind. After his physical recovery, he was transferred to a high-security psychiatric facility.
His mother appeared at my door countless times, the imperious socialite replaced by a broken woman. She begged me to visit Hektor, claiming it might help.
I studied her—her hair white, her face etched with suffering—and said, "The mighty Hektor Reed, needing someone like me to save him? I don't think so."
Mrs. Reed left in defeat. I watched her go without emotion.
After my exoneration, the authorities issued a formal public apology. The art world welcomed me back, critics praising my "resilience." But I decided to never sell another painting. Instead, I stayed in the small town and accepted a position teaching art at the local elementary school. Watching the innocent faces of my students gave me a reason to keep going. Having lost everything I once valued, I chose to use my remaining time to contribute something meaningful to the world. Even when life drives you to the darkest depths, you can always choose the light. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.