I can't do it anymore

Harald

I had gone into the bathroom, alone, and looked at myself in the mirror. My face looked different, more tired, as if the weight of all the recent events had finally begun to be reflected physically on me. The encounter with Jake Gardner and his mother still remained fresh in my mind. It had been a tense, difficult conversation, filled with hurt, guilt and, somehow, a thread of hope that I still couldn't quite identify. What I had done—that attempt to apologize, was the least I could do, but it didn't erase everything my family had caused over the decades. Still, as strange as it seemed, a small relief was beginning to wash over me. Maybe, finally, my family's victims were starting to receive some form of justice.

I sighed as I washed my hands, letting the water run for longer than necessary, as if that could purify something beyond the physical. I wanted to wash away all the guilt and all the dirt that the Morton name carried, but I knew that wasn't possible. Likewise, I spent