As much as I want to believe Cata's words, right now, they feel like a bandaid on a bleeding wound. ...Do those horrible feelings ever really come to pass? How the heck do I move on from my own damn murder? I know killing Charles wouldn't feel even near enough, so what could? What would feel better than destroying the man who destroyed my life? What could possibly allow me to put it all behind me? ...Feels like a million dollar question, and I don't have the answer. I really want to trust Cata, but it doesn't feel like my anger could be quenched any time soon, nor with a simple answer. I glance at the phones left on the coffee table before me.
We will be up all night scrutinizing those, every text and every email, but for what? To uncover some business fraud, tax evasion perhaps? A few l
