I blink once, twice. When I turn, I find him watching me.
“I…” I croak, touching my throat, then pointing at the empty screen, my hand trembling.
Irrefutable evidence, they had said at The Tribunal.
They must have seen this too.
“What’s that, Ivy?” he asks, all false sweetness.
“That’s not possible.” I take a step backward, shuddering. I hug my arms around myself. “That’s not me.”
“No?”
I shake my head. Back up another step only to stumble over the chair I’d knocked over earlier but catching myself before I fall.
“No,” I say, not even convincing myself as he replays it, and I’m forced to watch it again.
“But I have eyes in my head. The evidence is right here in front of us,” he says finally.
We watch in silence, and when it’s over, he switches the monitors off and turns to me.
“I will mark you so you will never forget what you did. What you tried but failed to do. So that when anyone looks upon your face, they will know your shame, and they will turn their backs on you. You are a traitor. A liar. A Moreno.” My name is like a slap. I flinch. “You make me sick, Ivy.”
“I—”
“And my ink to mark your face, to deform you, is the sentence I decree upon you.”
14
Santiago
"How are you feeling?" Councilor Hildebrand peers up at me from beneath his spectacles.
"I live to see another day," I answer flatly.
He nods and then glances at the file before him. The three councilors of The Tribunal are seated behind the ornate desk on the dais in the courtroom reserved only for meetings such as these.
Since the explosion, I have come here once a month to meet with The Councilors, elders, and other remaining family members who lost someone that day. It was undoubtedly one of the worst attacks on a single IVI sector. We lost ten Sovereign Sons that day and twice as many elders.
Unlike a civilian case, a Society case never goes cold. We have all been assigned our own duties to further the investigation, and regardless of the slow progress, we reconvene here to discuss the findings on the same day every month. A process that will continue until The Tribunal deems the perpetrators have been found and punished accordingly.
Duty would dictate that I tell them I already know exactly who the perpetrator is, and he's lying in a hospital bed, too cowardly to face his crimes. But I decided long ago not to bring my suspicions forward unfounded. I didn't require The Tribunal's approval to punish those who I know in my bones bear the guilt of the blood that was shed that day.
I may never know how many Moreno family members partook in the scheme, but the only fair sentence is that which Eli has given me. An eye for an eye. And perhaps it is selfish, but I am not willing to relinquish control of their destruction, which is exactly what will happen if I were to bring their names forward.
First, there would be a long waiting period while The Tribunal considers the evidence. And then there would be a meeting between the surviving family members and a vote of what should occur. They would all want a piece of Eli and his family. And I am not willing to settle for a piece. Not when I am the only man who left that building, clinging to life as everyone around me burned.
It will be my face Eli sees should he ever wake. My eyes will haunt him in the afterlife when I erase his existence from this earth. I can settle for nothing else.
The Councilors bring the meeting to attention, offering each family a turn to speak. Progress reports always pass by quickly, with little intel at all. Yet each man who speaks on behalf of the dead offers up the tiniest of crumbs, all meaningless, in an effort to prove that they too have not forgotten.
When it is my turn to speak, I tell them the same thing I do every month. I have leads I'm following up on, but nothing concrete. I can feel the eyes of the others on me. I may as well be a ghost in this room. They are all wondering why I survived, and their beloved family members did not. I never look their way. I never speak to them directly. I volunteer what is requested of me, and then I take my leave.
Only today, when the meeting adjourns, Councilor Hildebrand requests me to stay behind, as I suspected he would. I have not been summoned before today because they prefer to hold court at the same time, and their schedules do not bend to accommodate anyone.
Once the room is vacated of the other members, Hildebrand looks down upon me, speaking on behalf of his fellow Councilors.
"We would like to discuss the matter of sentencing for your wife, who is due back in court shortly."
"Yes," I reply. "I'm aware."
"My fellow Councilors and I have prepared several recommendations for her sentence, which we will lay forth now."
I wait in silence as he opens Ivy's folder. My throat burns, and heat crawls up the base of my neck. I know what they will recommend. I am not unfamiliar with the expected sentence for the attempted murder of a Sovereign Son.
"There are three recommendations," Hildebrand reads from the document. "Death by a poison of the Tribunal's choice. Death by hanging. And the last alternative is the loyalty test."
I swallow the acid in my throat as I consider their options. They are as harsh as I expected, with the only option that has even a potential of survival being the loyalty test. An excruciating dance of torture Ivy would have to endure as I look on without uttering a word. It is The Society's way of reaffirming loyalty. Should I break and ask them to stop that which my wife is sentenced to endure, they would kill her. Should I watch on in silence, she may survive if she is strong enough. None of these options would please me, and I make it known.
"I have an alternate suggestion."
"You have prepared a recommended sentence for your wife?"
I force a nod. "I have."
They look at each other, then back at me. "And?"
"I propose that I will execute her punishment myself, as is my duty and responsibility as her husband. It is me who was slighted, and therefore I request that I am the one to dole out a penalty of my choosing."
Hildebrand dips his head, his face a mask of emptiness that makes it hard to discern his feelings. "Let's hear what you have in mind."
"I propose that I will disgrace my wife as she has disgraced me. I will leave her with a permanent disfiguration for all to see."
"What sort of disfiguration?" He arches a brow at me.
"A tattoo on one side of her face to match my own."
There is a long stretch of silence as he studies me, considering. "You would not have your wife put to death for the attempt on your life?"
"No." The muscles in my shoulders go rigid as I consider that they are prepared to fight me on this.
"Explain," he commands. "Explain what deems her worthy of saving. How would you ever trust her again? Why should IVI trust her?"
"I take it upon myself to guarantee her unwavering loyalty to The Society," I assure them. "And if there were to be any sign of falsehood in that regard, I give you my word that I would end her life myself."
"The sentence is too light to satisfy the requirements of this court—"
"She is pregnant with my heir," I clip the words through gritted teeth. “And for that reason, she is still of value.”