The Day She Married His Killer, I Brought the Coffin

I narrowed my eyes and studied Naomi Sanchez's face.

Three years ago, she'd been hunted down, and by the time she stumbled into the Southern Highlands she was barely breathing.

It was my brother's kindness that saved her.

He believed her promises, her vows sworn to heaven and earth, and left the Highlands to follow her back to the Sanchez family.

Too bad Naomi Sanchez turned out to be worse than my hex-insects.

At least my hex-insects knew how to repay the hand that fed them.

In just three short years, she'd already forgotten her oath to protect my brother for the rest of his life.

And the truly laughable part?

She couldn't even tell our faces apart. She'd mistaken me for him.

The moment the name “Lloyd” left her lips, a wave of recognition passed through the guests, followed almost instantly by open contempt.

“Oh, so that's him. No wonder he looks so rough around the edges.”

“He's from some village in the Southern Highlands. What did you expect? I heard he married into the Sanchez family three years ago and barely left the house the entire time. Even they were embarrassed by him.”

So this was how my brother had been mocked and humiliated for three years.

And he never once mentioned it to me.

In every letter he wrote, all he ever did was remind me, over and over, to stop killing, to stop doing terrible things.

Before I could say a word, Myron's tears fell first.

He dropped to his knees with a thud, choking back sobs.

“Lloyd, I'm so sorry.”

“I really didn't mean to steal Naomi from you. But my health is failing. The doctors say I don't have long.”

“I only had one wish. Just one. To marry Naomi and wear a suit for her. Just once.”

“Lloyd, if you need to blame someone, blame me. Don't blame Naomi. It's my fault. My rotten luck. I shouldn't have fallen for her while I was still alive.”

Naomi's face crumpled with tenderness. She pulled him into her arms and murmured soft reassurances.

“You've done nothing wrong. He's just petty. That's why he's always picking on you.”

I looked down at Myron kneeling on the ground.

The hatred inside me hit its peak, and I found myself smiling instead.

“You say you're dying.”

“So why aren't you dead yet?”

The crowd erupted, voices piling on from every direction.

“What is wrong with you? The man is on his knees apologizing!”

“He's dying, for God's sake. Can't you show a shred of decency?”

“No wonder Ms. Sanchez ditched him. Vicious to the bone.”

Those two sentences of mine set Naomi off.

She stormed over and slapped me hard across the face, her voice a raw snarl.

“Lloyd, are you done?!”

“Myron has been more than gracious to you. You were fed and clothed under the Sanchez roof. How exactly were you wronged? If you want to throw a tantrum, do it somewhere else. Stop making a fool of yourself here!”

Fed and clothed.

I lowered my gaze to the coffin.

My brother's face was a mottled blue-purple. Every strand of hair was gone from his head. There wasn't a single patch of unbroken skin on his body.

I almost laughed.

“Fed and clothed?”

Naomi's expression turned colder, as though she'd burned through her last scrap of patience.

“Lloyd, the way you're acting right now is disgusting.”

“Myron is ill. You can't be bothered to show compassion, fine. But hauling a coffin to a wedding to cause a scene? What exactly are you trying to do, drive him into his grave?”

Before I could open my mouth, Myron was already walking over with reddened eyes, tugging gently at the edge of Naomi's sleeve.

“Naomi, don't blame Lloyd……”

“He probably just cares about you too much. That's the only reason he'd do all this.”

He bowed his head, dabbing at his tears, his voice thin and trembling.

“It's all my fault. I shouldn't be alive. I shouldn't have come back……”

Naomi immediately pulled him behind her. She raised a finger and pointed it at me, her eyes full of revulsion.

“Look at him. Then take a good look at yourself.”