[ There's a moment where Carver hesitates, breathing out slow. Sometimes I regret the kids, she says, and the two of them are strangers to each other but they're telling each other the truth in the dark. Yeah, he thinks but doesn't say, yeah, I regret them sometimes, too. He doesn't know if she means it the same way he does, but that's a detail. That's how it goes in war, in survival, in the aftermath. Things get blurred.
He doesn't regret Josephine, or her brother's trembling, vengeful rage. They were marked. But the others, the little ones?
Sometimes, he has dreams about digging graves. He's thinking about that as she continues, laying out the details. Carver doesn't have the context but he understands a thing or two about operations that go wrong, and the collateral damage they bleed.
His door clicks open. Funny, that. Carver exhales through his teeth. Truth for a truth, right? ]
If my sister's dead, [ he says, very softly. ] Then it's because of me.
cw death of children
He doesn't regret Josephine, or her brother's trembling, vengeful rage. They were marked. But the others, the little ones?
Sometimes, he has dreams about digging graves. He's thinking about that as she continues, laying out the details. Carver doesn't have the context but he understands a thing or two about operations that go wrong, and the collateral damage they bleed.
His door clicks open. Funny, that. Carver exhales through his teeth. Truth for a truth, right? ]
If my sister's dead, [ he says, very softly. ] Then it's because of me.