They had learned that interruptions were suicide when he was in that state. When his voice finally came, It felt like something that had been continuing long before anyone was allowed to hear it.“I attended a burial once,” he said slowly, almost detached, like the memory belonged to someone else but still annoyed him. His boys stood firm. A dropped feather sound could be heard.There was a pause, but he didn’t look at anyone.“The kind where you think it is done… and then somehow, it refuses to stay done.”He had a cigarette between his fingers, already halfway burned down, and the smoke followed him slowly as he moved.“I’ve watched that same thing happen with Jeffery more times than I can count. Every time I think it is finally over, every time I think something has finally reached him properly… he finds a way to stand up again.”His gaze shifted slightly, still unfocused, he was replaying every moment that had failed him.“It is like he understands escape better than consequence.
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