andiematronic

“Uh, isn’t your family—husband, kids—aren’t they there? Could be awkward.”“I took the kids to my mother’s house for the weekend. Husband…he’s off on “business”” Mrs. B took her hands off the wheel to make air quotes, “…if you call banging your co-worker business. He and I are pretty much done, just so you know.”“Oh. I’m sorry. Must be rough.”

That previous single thought of her own indecency was wiped out by the tidal wave of her curiosity. About the only thing that she was still aware of was her father’s steady breathing and making sure not to wake him. Taking care not to cause too much disturbance on the mattress, she gently shifted further down the bed. Her dad was still unfolded like starfish, so her legs had to slide out alongside them as she brought her face down to the level of his pelvis.

If you want punishment for you and Cyrilo, tell me this, what will it accomplish? What’s done is done. The dead are already in the ground, and no amount of flagellation will bring them back. Whether you receive punishment or not, nothing changes. None of it matters. It’s all pointless. If you were a violent criminal, unrepentant, or even pleased with the carnage Bella wrought, then for the objective sake of society, I would say you should be locked away or executed. However, that isn’t you. I see your guilt and pain, so it’s not like there is any grand lesson for you to learn by being punished. If you think sitting in the dungeon will make you feel better, relieve you of your guilt, and bless you with a clean conscience, then the punishment is for your sake, not anyone else’s.”