When Night Falls (Complete)

83

JOSI

Josi doesn't know where the bodies are. They discarded them as soon as the family met their end, and all she could do was stand and watch the guards drag their bodies out.

All Josi sees now are those images. Those grotesque images. She sees them when she closes her eyes, and even when her mind is preoccupied with all things Idris related, they're still there tormenting her. The images are everywhere. They have even begun showing up in her dreams. Although, now, Josi supposes they're nightmares.

In these nightmares, Nora's accusing gaze follows her. She runs. She races. She finds some place to hide from the stare, to flee from those harrowing accusations. But each time, she fails. She has no choice but to allow the stare judge her existence. It reads right through her and exposes her for who she truly is.

Now there's no hour in the day, no day in the week, that those eyes don't haunt Josi. She sits in her bedroom with a glass of whiskey neat just staring off into the distance. The same outline of the city which the sun currently kisses. The same gust of wind that rattles the bare branches. This setting delivers a falsified version of tranquility. It's all forms of serenity on the outside, but underneath, Josi is dismantling, like a raging avalanche that has still to find its conclusion.

After fighting tooth and nail to freeze all thoughts in her mind, Josi has finally given up and succumbed to them. They berate and taunt her — give her no room for rest. They practically control her life at this point.

She hasn't even been made aware of the maid who's been in the room with her for a while now, sorting out her wardrobe. It's like the room has ceased to exist, and all she can do is pick apart the issues in her mind.

And what eats Josi up currently is the choices she's made. Could she have handled her quest for revenge differently? Could she have taken a different route — one that didn't end in the death of an innocent family? Josi has no answer, and when the uncertainty settles in deep, she begins laughing. How ironic that even on the winning side, she still has to suffer.

I suppose I should have just let him lock me in here to rot until he decided to marry and put a baby in me.

The thought makes Josi grow queasy. Carrying Idris's child is a reality worse than hell. She will make sure the fetus dies before it even takes form. And if the pregnancy can't be prevented, she will put an end to her life.

The irritation still has not subsided. Josi fills her glass up with more whiskey and chugs it so recklessly, it spills down her neck and soaks her robe. The image will not leave. It will not disappear. It has made it its mission to torment Josi.

The blood. The lifeless bodies.

Alice. The six year old.

Alice was a child. Did she deserve a bullet to her head? As much as Josi would like to pin the blame on Idris for pulling the trigger, she knows this one is entirely on her. Her hands are as dirty as his — or in this particular case, possibly even more filthy. She dragged the Yarrow family into her agenda and made them pay for her crimes.

Josi had a hand in the death of a child.

"You are just like Idris Verdonni."

Josi turns to the maid. "What did you say?"

"I said do you want me to get Mr. Verdonni?"

Josi goes quiet. Has she begun hallucinating? Has it really gotten to that point? The emotions hit her in the darkest corner of her mind, then begin to drive out the last bit of sanity she has left.

"Get out."

The maid looks lost. "But ma'am–"

"Now!"