[not hard enough]
They all knew, but no one said it. They were all trying to tell her, but she never listened.
Her father.
Her mother.
Her brother.
They all knew. They were all told, all in on it. Even she knew, to some extent, but not a great one. She didn’t know what they did.
They did their part, but it wasn’t enough.
Money.
Hint.
Gun.
Not necessarily in that order, three steps to the truth on a road avoided.
He offered: money wouldn’t buy love, or life. Not this time.
He declined.
She would hint: try to set the grieving woman on the right path, knowing by the time it reached her she’d be dead.
No one could sleep through all the noise, especially a trained professional.
He left the gun, the biggest sign of them all. He gave it back to her as a clear-cut message—
You will kill him.
The two men exited the house and met the woman at the curb.
“We’ve done all we can. She doesn’t understand.”
“Pity,” the woman adds. “I was starting to like him.”
“Doesn’t matter now. It’ll all be over soon.”
Two of Three climbed into the car, one looked back at the darkened house.
“I’m sorry, Angel. I tried.”
Not hard enough.
+ + +
exitus