In Defense of a Murderer

I didn't know how to respond to Marie's question. My resentment over Zachary's lack of trust in me intensified.

Mustering a forced smile, I replied, "Zachary's working, Mom. He can't get away."

I wasn't sure if Marie believed me. Her smile seemed to have faded slightly. She gestured for me to come closer. Doing so, I noticed that her eyes were red.

"I know Zachary has done you wrong, Annie. I know what's going on. He has never been home whenever I've gone over to your house recently. How can a person be that busy?" Marie said.

She spoke with strength, and her cheeks looked flushed. My heart clenched at the sight of that. I knew patients often showed signs of improvement before taking their last breath. Seeing this now, I felt even more anguished.

Marie noticed my sorrow. She used her hand, which felt extremely cold to the touch, to wipe my tears away.

"Once I'm gone, there won't be anyone to help you teach him a lesson. You're a lovely person, Annie. You should be happy. Stop allowing yourself to be hurt like this. You should get a divorce," Marie said. "I'm to blame too. I never thought he would end up like his father…"

A tear rolled out of the corner of Marie's eye, and her hand slowly collapsed onto the bed.

I tried not to cry, but it didn't work. I couldn't stop myself from sobbing.

"Mom!"

The heart rate monitor flatlined.

I was never going to get to eat her handmade pastries anymore.

…

When I went over to Marie's house to go through her belongings, I saw a letter on her desk. I didn't know when she had written it, but it was addressed to me. It was only after reading the letter that I found out Zachary's father had cheated on her.

She had suffered a lot in her early years. Life only improved once Zachary was older.

Marie hated unfaithful people the most. Who would've thought that Zachary, the son she adored and raised on her own, would become one such person too?