C466 Grieving

Late that night, Alicia and I lay awake, unable to find sleep. Neither of us had the strength to speak at first. The room was quiet, but the silence between us felt heavier than any words could have been. My mind kept replaying everything that had happened over the past few days, the decisions we had made, the people we had encountered, the secrets we had uncovered, and, above all, the loss of our son. I turned my head and looked at Alicia. She was lying beside me, staring blankly into the darkness. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and every now and then, a tear escaped and rolled silently down her cheek. “Mike,” she whispered. I turned toward her. “Mm-hmm?” She lowered her eyes, gathering the courage to say what had clearly been troubling her. “Tell me what really happened. Why did we start all of this?” Her voice trembled. “If we had never left Lucia Goods, we would never have met Hanna. Maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe Emmanuel would still be here.”

Her words pierced my heart. For a moment, I had nothing to say. I wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, but I knew better than to make promises I could not keep. I reached for her hand and held it tightly. “Wife, we shouldn't regret everything we did,” I said quietly. “The decisions we made were not made because we wanted this life. We made them because we were trying to protect our families.” Alicia's tears began flowing again. “But we failed to protect them.” She slowly wiped her face with the back of her hand, but more tears replaced the ones she had removed. “Now our child has been taken from us,” she whispered. “Our Emmanuel is gone forever.” My eyes filled with tears. “My son…” The words barely left my mouth before Alicia moved closer and wrapped her arms around me. I held her tightly, and for the first time that night, I allowed myself to cry. She buried her face against my chest. “The past few days have turned me into something I don't understand,” she said between sobs. “I keep thinking about what I did to Charlie's husband. The way I tortured him… the things I did… they keep replaying in my mind.” She pulled away slightly and looked into my eyes. “Husband, tell me honestly. Have I changed that much?”

I stared at her for several seconds. The woman in front of me was still my wife. The same woman I had loved, trusted, and built a family with. But I could see the guilt consuming her. “Wife, don't think of yourself that way,” I said gently. “We were desperate. We needed answers, and we did whatever we believed was necessary to find them.” She shook her head. “But he was innocent, Mike. I was unfair to an innocent man.” I had no argument against that. I knew she was right. What we had done to Charlie's husband had crossed a line, and perhaps we had both known it at the time. But fear had consumed us. We had been searching for answers, and every minute we spent without them felt like another minute in which our family remained in danger. I pulled her back into my arms. “Wife, look at what interrogating him eventually led to,” I said. “We found Charlie's whereabouts. And that information led us directly to the government task we were given.”

Alicia remained silent for a moment. Then she whispered, “And how did that help us?” I looked at her. “We completed the task.” She slowly lifted her head. “I don't care about the task anymore.” Her voice was different now. There was no anger in it. Only exhaustion. “I don't want this life, Mike. I don't want us to live like this.” “What do you mean?” “I mean I want us to stop.” I remained silent. Alicia continued. “I don't want any of my family members to be in danger because I wanted to be a hero. I acted like a hero and we lost our only son.” My chest tightened. She looked away as tears gathered in her eyes again. “I thought I could protect everyone. I thought if I became strong enough, brave enough, I could keep my family safe. But look where that brought us.” I wiped my own tears before speaking. “Wife, it hurts. God knows how much it hurts. But I've already accepted my fate.” She looked at me. “I don't know what else to call it. Maybe the gods are punishing me.”

My voice cracked. “When I think about everything Samantha did to me, I never imagined that anything could hurt more than that. But losing a child…” I stopped. I couldn't finish the sentence. The pain was too deep. “Losing a child is unbearable.” Alicia reached for my hand. I squeezed hers. “We can't bring Emmanuel back,” she whispered. “I know.” “Then why do we have to continue woth this life?” I looked toward the ceiling, trying to hold myself together. “Because I can't accept that his death meant nothing.” Alicia stared at me. “I don't want revenge if it means losing another member of our family.” “I understand.” “I don't want to wake up one morning and discover that you've been killed too.” I turned toward her. “That won't happen.” “You can't promise me that.” She was right. I couldn't. For several moments, neither of us spoke. Then Alicia took a deep breath. “Let's just live like normal people,” she said. “No more missions. No more government tasks. No more enemies. No more bloodshed. We can leave everything behind and start again.”

I listened carefully. Part of me wanted exactly the same thing. I wanted to wake up in the morning without wondering who was coming after us. I wanted to have breakfast with my family without thinking about weapons, enemies, missions, or death. But another part of me could not let go. “We shouldn't make decisions like this while we're grieving,” I finally said. Alicia frowned. “What else is there to decide?” I turned toward her. “I will not let my son die in vain.” She stared at me. “I will find Hanna myself.” Her expression changed immediately. “Mike…” “I need to know why she did this. I need to know where she is, and I need to make sure she can never hurt another member of our family.” Alicia looked at me for a long moment. She didn't agree. But she didn't argue either. Eventually, she rested her head against my shoulder. That night, we finally closed our eyes. But neither of us truly slept. We simply lay there beside each other, two broken parents trying to survive the loss of their child.

Early the next morning, I woke before everyone else. The house was unusually quiet. For a brief moment, I forgot what had happened. Then reality returned. Emmanuel was gone. I reached for my phone and opened the Lions group chat. My fingers hesitated over the keyboard before I finally typed the message. “Hanna killed Emmanuel. His funeral will be today.” I stared at the words for several seconds before pressing send. Within minutes, messages began appearing. Some people asked questions. Others expressed their condolences. But there was nothing anyone could say that would change what had happened. Our family was still grieving, yet there was no time to completely collapse. We had to prepare for Emmanuel's funeral. Everyone began doing what needed to be done. Some arranged the funeral preparations. Others contacted relatives and friends. People moved around the house quietly, speaking in low voices as though raising their voices would somehow make the reality more painful.

Soon, the Lions began arriving. One by one, they entered the house with expressions that showed how deeply Emmanuel's death had affected them. Even Miller arrived. He looked completely broken. The man who normally had confidence barely spoke. His eyes were red, and he seemed lost in his own thoughts. I had never seen him like that before. The coaches also arrived. With them came the First Group and the Second Group. Many of them had never even met their leader. Yet Emmanuel's death had affected them deeply. They stood together, united by grief, even though some had never had the opportunity to know him personally. The atmosphere inside the house became heavier with every passing hour. Eventually, it was time to leave for the funeral. The ceremony proceeded peacefully. People spoke about Emmanuel. I listened quietly. Every word seemed to make the reality more painful. My son was lying there, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

As I looked around at everyone who had gathered, one question kept returning to my mind. How could Hanna have done this? How could she have looked at an innocent child and decided that he deserved to die? Emmanuel had never been part of our war. He had never chosen this life. He had never asked to become involved in the conflicts between adults. Yet he had paid the ultimate price. The thought consumed me. After the funeral, the Gupta family eventually left. The house slowly became quieter. Only the Lions and the Mooney family remained. Everyone was exhausted. The grief had drained whatever strength we had left. Then Chris suddenly looked around the room. His expression hardened. “Where is that maid?” he asked. Nobody answered. Chris's voice became colder. “The maid who gave away my nephew's location. Bring her here.” He clenched his fists. “I'll deal with her myself.”