HIS HEART

Ch:30 The Final Note

It's been a week since Tara's hearing. Nothing has come back to normal. I miss her presence in every little thing- The tie, the CBI headquarters, Laura, Black coffee, everything. I force myself to move on and keep going. After a long time, I finally check my mailbox. The mailbox in which Tara's letters were once delivered. I sigh as the key clicks into place, taking a second to recover, I turn it and open the door.

Inside is a light brown envelope. With an eagle stamp. Tara.

----

Hey,

By now, you'd probably know. You aren't Roger. You'd know I lied to you. You might think I used you. Changed your identity even. Changed you into someone you weren't. And I'm sorry.

I wrote this letter hoping you'd open it when you were ready to forgive me. I'm coming clean-

I never knew you. We had nothing to begin with. I only met you when you got hurt. I was just another person at the accident. But was I there on accident? No.

My best friend was killed that night. He was stabbed. And I couldn't do anything.

We were talking about college. Taking a stroll in the middle of the night, trying to clear our minds. Talking about What we could have been, our future. Just us and the cold winter air. Or so I thought.

I didn't see him, you, stalking behind us, the knife in his gloved hand. Maybe if I turned, I could have saved him. But I didn't. We didn't see it coming. The knife plunging into his flesh, him collapsing into a pool of blood on the floor. I remember it like it was yesterday.

And I saw you try to run. Away from the scene. Maybe for once, if I had let my friendship take over my killer instincts. He would have made it, but I didn't. I chased after you, grabbing the knife that you dropped. I caught up to you, and I got my revenge. I was fairly sure I killed you.

The police came- headlights flashing. When I came back to the scene, Roger's body wasn't there and the area was surrounded by cops. I threw the knife, without much thought, into the bushes and joined the officers, knowing I had made a mistake, an act of revenge that would stay only with me.

I got a call later that night- Roger was not going to make it and I was the only family he had. I ran into the hospital, crying. He was losing a lot of blood and no one could help me. It was too late and the cut was too deep. His light blue shirt, drenched in blood, no amount of my pleading would bring him back.

Right opposite to him was you. You were struggling to breathe, eyes barely open. The doctors were rushing in and out, trying to save you. You needed a transplant. A heart.

I sat there, with my head in my hands, hoping all this was just a nightmare. I watched the doctor's lips move as he told me there was no saving Roger. I watched them move as they said he could donate his organs. I watched the crease between his brows increase as he explained your condition. And how Roger's heart could save you. A part of him would live on. I nodded, I signed the document. You lived.

He lives in you.

I touch my chest. The heart in me.. Wasn't mine.

It belonged to Roger, and was Tara's to keep.

His heart.