Seven years passed.Alistair was released. He came to my town. He knelt outside my clinic for three days, begging for forgiveness.On the fourth day, I opened my door."What do you want, Alistair?""I want you to forgive me.""You fed my mother's ashes to a pup. You locked me in a cellar. You don't get forgiveness.""I loved you," he whispered."You loved the idea of me. Go home, Alistair. Don't come here again."I walked inside and closed the door.He left that night. A week later, a hiker found his body at the base of Snow Peak. He had jumped.The note in his pocket was short: "Selene. I owe you a life. I'm paying it back."Gideon came up behind me when I read the news. He wrapped his arms around my waist."His choices were his own. You did not push him.""I know. But I keep thinking—if I had said yes, would he still be alive?"He turned me around to face him. "That is not murder. That is survival."That night, Gideon brought me a letter. Alistair had left it with a lawyer.Selene,I
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