Seventy-One: Execution.

GERALD.

I staggered out of bed that fateful day, taking a moment to heave a deep breath. Fateful, it sounded like a bespoke understatement. Today was a gruesome reminder of the accident that took Lydia’s life. Or as some people would call it—an anniversary.

It had been nine years now, but somedays it feels like it was yesterday. It feels like I’d only started grieving and the hurt would hit more on those days. I could never see it as an anniversary because whilst everyone else was preparing for Christmas or the Mountain Ball, I was reminded of my need to mourn.

But this year, it was different. It was also worse.

“Can you do it?” Rafael stood at the door as I tried to stand amidst the bandage across my healing chest. He helped me up but asked again. “Are you sure you can oversee the execution?” He added.

And her face was all I saw behind my eyes—April. It was today, her execution was today. I knew Rafael didn’t remember what today was and honestly I’d like to keep it that way. I could