I clasp my hand over my mouth, and there’s an audible gasp. It’s my father.
Hanging. I knew it, didn’t I? It would be something terrible. But what execution isn’t?
“The sentence will be carried out swiftly and with a compassion you do not deserve. May the Lord have mercy on your soul.” He slams his gavel down and stands, and somehow, we all get to our feet as the three walk out of the room, and I turn to watch as my brother, in a moment of panic as the guards take hold of his arms, turns his face up to us. To our father or to me, I can’t tell.
He opens his mouth to say something, and I realize he must have been looking at my father because when my father bows his head, a tear drops from Abel’s eye, and he bows his, too. And, without a word and without protest, he is led out of the courtroom through the same door he had been brought into it.
I turn to my father and take his hand.
He looks at it, then up at me, and I see the agony on his face.
He pats my hand. “It’s right, Ivy. It’s what has to be.”
I hug him and hold him as he tries to stop the sobs. It’s a long few minutes before he shuffles past me and leaves The Tribunal building alone. I do not know if he will witness Abel’s execution.
Santiago walks me down and out of the courtroom where Marco is patiently waiting, his face, too, grave.
“Marco will take you home,” Santiago says, and I know he will stay to witness. I don’t blame him, and I don’t ask him to come with me. I had before. I had asked him not to watch, but I realize it wasn’t my place to do that. My brother stole so much from him. And Santiago needs closure.
I nod. But there’s one thing. I want to say goodbye. I want to tell Abel goodbye. But I know I won’t be allowed to see him, so I reach into my purse and take out a folded note. I hand it to Santiago.
He looks from the note to me.
“I want him to know I forgive him,” I say. Santiago must give me this. This is my closure even though I know he doesn’t believe Abel deserves forgiveness.
Santiago studies me for a long minute before he squeezes his eyes shut and closes his hand over mine. “You are too good for this world,” he says, and slips the paper from my fingers to his.
I reach up to cup his face. “I love you. And I understand what you need to do,” I tell him before leaning up on tiptoe to kiss him. I feel his deep, shuddering inhale of breath.
It’s over.
He will witness Abel’s execution, and it will be finished. And I don’t know if he expected to feel joy at this. I can’t say what he does feel, not really, but it’s not joy. He’s too human to feel joy even when his enemy is about to be executed.
I come back down to flat feet and look up at him. His forehead is furrowed, eyes heavy with emotion. He nods once and turns to walk away.
44
Santiago
The compound is on lockdown, the normally soft lighting in the courtyard even more dim than usual. It's late now. The traffic outside dwindling to a silence that only seems to preface the ominous occasions on a night such as this one.
The guards are at the gates. The Sovereign Sons and their respective families are all dressed in robes, the few women in attendance donning veiled hats. The men, including myself, are in masks.
Mercedes is beside me, Judge flanking her other side while we take our place in the crowd. Time passes slowly as each family walks the stairs to the gallows erected only for events such as these.
All the Society members who have been wronged by Abel have an opportunity to speak their final piece. Every family who lost someone in the explosion is in attendance, as well as some of the excommunicated members who were wronged by his false evidence.
One by one, they approach him while he stands on the wooden platform, hands tied behind his back. Some are too grief-stricken to speak. Others too quiet to hear. The slaps from mothers who have buried their sons can be heard echoing throughout the courtyard, and Abel bears them all through gritted teeth and a hardened jaw.
He was promised a peaceful execution, and for him, this is as peaceful as it will get. He will die by a broken neck or strangulation, but even that is too much for a coward like him. Someone who has inflicted so much pain cannot even consider the notion of receiving it himself. I have no doubt he was hoping for a large dose of barbiturates, a mercy only sanctioned for the particularly weak or vulnerable.
Since his fate was announced, I have swung between two extremes. One part of me knows it isn't enough, while the other logical part of me understands why it must be this way. He would have never given up the names of the others who participated in the crimes unless there was something in it for him. Now, all of the families can be at peace. Because we are tired. It is a fact I can no longer deny.
When I look upon my sister, at the grief she has shouldered since the loss of our family, I know this is what we need. Not just for Ivy's sake, but for ours too. It is time to put these dark memories behind us, and tonight, when I go to sleep, it will be with a clean conscience.
Abel Moreno will be dead, and I will never allow him to taint my thoughts again.
"It's our turn," Mercedes whispers.
I nod at her, steadying her as we step forward together. Judge releases her reluctantly, their eyes connecting briefly before I escort her up the platform to stand before the devil himself.
Mercedes trembles in my grasp, and it is all I can do to hold her up as she meets his gaze. He won't look her in the eye. He won't look either of us in the eye.
As part of his plea, he did not hesitate to tarnish any other name in an effort to save his own. He told The Tribunal that Mercedes had hired the woman who poisoned me to lure me into adultery. He also tried to pass off the poisoning as her plan in a last-ditch effort, but the evidence against him could not be ignored. As one last parting shot, he cast a shadow over my sister's name. And there will certainly be a punishment from The Tribunal for her involvement in the scheme with the courtesan, no matter how small. Even I cannot save her from facing the consequences of her actions, but I can and will plead on her behalf. I suspect it will be a light sentence, hours of service to the Society. Time spent assisting the nuns. Whatever it may be, even Abel knows it will not come close to matching his own. Yet I believe that was his intention.
He would have my sister die for his actions. He would run down his own sister in cold blood and sacrifice his own family for his pursuit of power. How many lives has he destroyed? How many families?
The others involved in the schemes have been punished accordingly. Holton has been excommunicated for his role. Chamber’s surviving family members too, who were found hiding out in the South of France. They were guilty by association with Chambers himself, his shame too great to bear. But it is Abel who was the true snake amongst us.
When I look at his face, I understand what it means to have no soul. There is nothing in him to save. Nothing that will carry from this life to the next. And I believe, for him, that is the worst punishment of all.
"I want you to know something," I begin, my voice quiet and low.
He lifts his chin slightly, his eyes meeting mine for the first time. There is the hint of a smirk playing across his lips. He wants me to know I haven't won. That he will never possess any true regret for his actions. A fact that could only wound me if I hadn't realized it long ago myself.