I struggle to feel more, for some sense of emotion. The more time passes the less certain I am that I feel anything beyond a manufactured sense of concern, a jealous need to be something I haven’t been for a very long time.
Winston displays many of the attributes that I am envious of, not least of which is his capacity for forgiveness. Remarkably, he seems to find space for a measure of sympathy in the midst of his profound loss. He wasn’t afraid to die, even after what he had seen. His anger was well directed at a tangible evil.
After hours of avoidance Ngozi found me sitting in my study in the dark. She sat beside me in silence for a moment.
“What’s happening Nicholas?” She asked evenly.
“His name is Marcus. He was made by my maker, perhaps as my replacement. In any event, he is a believer in the superiority of our kind and put simply if I’m not with him…if I’m not helping the cause of our kind then he believes loss will teach me the error of my ways.”
“The loss of those you care about?”
“The loss of anyone, anything that is not of us.”
I felt her warm hand on mine.
“You’ve kept me safe for so long Nicholas, but this is different. I have never seen anything come after you. I don’t know what we can do, but Winston wants to help. He doesn’t want to die like his family, he at least wants a fighting chance.”
“I’m not sure I can promise anything more than that, but I believe I owe you both that much at the very least. I will do my best to keep you safe, but when Marcus decides to send others or show up here himself there will be more difficult decisions to be made.”
I turned to the doorway where Winston stood breathing deeply, choking back a fresh wave of tears…
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