"Y And I'll speak with the Hagertys about
es. creating a monument. Something to acknowledge this terrible period in our town's history," Jonathan murmured.
I raised myself up on my knees, peeking through a spot at the corner of the window. I saw Father nodding in satisfaction, and cold seeped through my veins. So this was the legacy of my death--that I was killed by a band of degenerate soldiers. Now I knew I needed to speak to Father more than ever. He needed to hear the whole truth, to know that Damon and I weren't sympathizers, to know that the problem could have been cured without so much bloodshed and violence.
"But Giuseppe . . . ?" Jonathan asked, taking a long drink from his tumbler.
"Y Jonathan?"
es,
"It is a triumphant moment in our town's history. The vampires are destroyed, and their bodies will turn to dust. We rid the town of the scourge, and thanks to the burning of the church, it will never come back. There were hard choices and heroism, but we won. That is your legacy," Jonathan said as he slammed his ledger closed with a definitive thump.
Father nodded and drained his own tumbler, then stood up. "Thank you," he said, holding out his hand. I watched as the two men shook hands, then watched as Jonathan disappeared into the shadows of the house. A moment later, I heard his carriage being hitched and the horses riding away. I crawled to the edge of the hedgerow. I stood up, my knees creaking, and walked through the door and into the house that was once mine.
Chapter 31
I crept through the house, cringing every time my foot hit a loose floorboard or a creaky corner. From the light at the far end of the house, I could tell Father had left the sitting room and was already in his study, no doubt writing down the record he and Jonathan had concocted in his own journal. I stood in the door frame and watched him for a moment. His hair was snow-white, and I saw age spots on his hands. Despite the lies I'd heard earlier, my heart went out to him. Here was a man who'd never known an easy life and who, after burying a wife, now had to bury two sons.
I took a step toward him, and Father's head jerked upward.
"Dear God . . . ," he said, dropping his pen to the floor with a clatter.
"Father," I said, holding out my hands to him. He stood up, his eyes darting wildly.
"It's okay," I said gently. "I just want to talk with you. "
"Y ou're dead, Stefan," Father said slowly, still gaping at me.
I shook my head. "Whatever you think of Damon and me, you have to know that we didn't betray you. "
The fear on Father's face abruptly turned to fury. "Y did betray me. Not only did you betray
ou me, you betrayed the whole town. Y should be
ou dead, after the way you've shamed me. "
I watched him, anger rising up inside me. "Even in our death, you feel only shame?" I asked. It was something Damon would say, and in a way, I felt his presence beside me. I was doing this for him. I was doing it for both of us, so that at least we'd die with truth on our side.
But Father was barely listening. Instead, he was staring at me. "Y ou're one of them now. Isn't that right, Stefan?" Father said, backing away from me, slowly, as if I were about to lunge and attack him.
"No. No. I'll never be one of them. " I shook my head, hoping against hope that Father would believe me.
"But you are. I watched you bleed and take your last breath. I left you for dead. And now I see you here. Y are one of them," Father said, his
ou back now against the brick wall.
"Y saw me get shot?" I asked in confusion. I
ou remembered the voices. The chaos. Vampire being yelled over and over again in the darkness. Feeling Noah pull me off Damon. Everything fading to black.
"I pulled the trigger myself. I pulled it on you, and I pulled it on Damon. And apparently it wasn't enough," Father said. "Now I need to finish the job," he said, his voice as cold as ice. "Y killed your own sons?" I asked, anger of
ou my own coursing through my veins.
Father stepped toward me menacingly, and even though he thought I was a monster, I was the one who felt fear. "Y were both dead to me as
ou soon as you sided with the vampires. And now, to come in here and ask forgiveness, as if what you did could be excused with an I'm sorry. No. No. " Father stepped away from his desk and walked toward me, his eyes still darting to the left and the right, except that now it was as if he were the hunter, rather than a hunted animal. "Y know, it's