14

It’ll be over in a few months.” I leaned back in my chair and rolled my whiskey glass in my hands, watching dust mites dance in the air before me.

“Hmmm.” My uncle rubbed his jaw, his eyes sharp as he examined me through the screen. I’d turned the guest room into my home office, as I preferred to work from home on the days I didn’t have to be in the office. Fewer tiresome interactions that way. “You don’t seem excited for someone who’s been working toward this since you were ten.”

“Excitement is overrated. All I care about is that it’ll be done.”

Despite my words, my chest pinched, because my uncle was right. I should feel excited. Vengeance was so close I could taste it, but instead of sweet relief, it coated my tongue with bitterness and turned my stomach sour.

What came after vengeance?

Every other purpose I could have paled in comparison to the force that had driven me all these years. It’d held me together while I shattered on the inside. It’d revived me as I lay bleeding, comatos