Finally at peace

Jake

I was consoling my mother after the judge's hearing on that very important day in our lives when the Mortons' son appeared, asking to speak to us. There was a tense moment when he approached me and my mother. I could feel that my mother was tense from the involuntary grip of her hand that was holding my arm.

“I would really like to speak to you,” Harald Morton asked again. On his face, there was a black shadow, as if he was overwhelmed.

“What would you have to say?” I questioned him, as if I wasn't interested in hearing what he wanted to say. I wasn't actually interested. Likewise, I mean, what would a member of that hateful family have to say to me and my mother? He would certainly be there to try to calm our spirits by offering money, just as they always did with their victims.

The man in front of me shifted his weight from one leg to the other in a somewhat disconcerting way, as if he were having to bear a lot inside him. “That’s all this is about, Mr. Gardner,” he began in a