Epilogue

12:00 pm. Three days after New Year's day.

After ruminating for so long, it was the afternoon of a Monday when Ebony decided for him to move on, he needed to close this chapter. 

He had drove to the destination as if on automatic mode, his mind reeling, trying to work out what he would say. When the time for visits was called, he had walked impassively through the airport style metal detector but as he handed over his ID and recieved a pat down from an officer, Ebony felt like he was as much of a criminal as the person he was visiting.

Now, as he sat in the prison's visiting room, there was a tightness in his stomach.

Ebony's eyes surveyed the large room. It was café style with a seating plan — a group of armless lounge chairs around a small round table and vending machine for soft drinks.

There was an old couple taking comfort in being back together for some time, a few young couples with kids running about, coquettish girlfriends dressed up to impress and young men visiting their mates. At couple of tables, there were few tears. The room was under the gaze of two guards who stood by the entrance doors. 

Ebony drew in a deep, shuddering breath and stared at the empty seat in front of him.

"Nice tie," came the familiar raspy voice from behind, followed by it's owner who sat down in the prussian blue chair opposite him. Her gaze moved up from his burnt-orange cotton tie, meeting his eyes.

Ebony's lips moved in a conversation only he could hear. His eyes stared at hers with a dour expression. The silence menaced them in the most blunt way by remaining mute.

"You're only here because of Grammy, innit?" Loxley queried, breaking the silence. "I believe she should've said something like, you aren't going to get peace without some effort," she reclined back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest, "You're here for closure."

"I forget how good you are," Ebony huffed a sardonic exhalation, his lips slightly tilted upwards. Once again, silence rudely sat between the two.

"I'm not a killer, Blaine." Loxley said. Her drooped eyebrows were in contrast with her relaxed eyes.

"Yeah, tell that to the dead fellow." Ebony inhaled a long breath of air, holding it for a few beats before exhaling it.

"You were always so dramatic." Loxley shook her head in a fractional movement and the loose strands became untucked from one of her ears. "So vulnerable since the academy days, which is why I took a chance to be your friend, Blaine."

"Please stop talking," he said through clenched jaw. "Our friendship was built on lies, Loxley."

Loxley stared back at him, an impassive expression on her face but Ebony was sure he saw a quick glint of hurt flash in her hazel eyes.

"You know, the more I think about it, the more I don't know you. Who's your family?" He asked. The skin between his eyebrows creased as his brain was in overdrive to seek answers. "You never talk about them."

Loxley let out an exhausted sigh, looking away from him but it didn't escape Ebony's notice how her ears flushed red and the muscles in her temples contracted.

"This is exactly why I'd distanced myself from you after I dropped out of the academy." She stated, staring back at him. "You'd have been better off without me. But, you dragged me back, remember? It was your idea to partner up, Blaine."

An uneasy silence stretched between them, punctuated by the indistinct murmurs around the room and a wailing of a baby.

"Grammy always said, lying is like juggling balls in the air." Ebony said, being the first to break the silence this time. "To maintain the momentum you've got to add more lies continually. But, often a truth falls out as you juggle numerous lies, offsetting the whole stunt and ultimately the juggling act collapses."

"She's not wrong." Loxley agreed. Her features seemed to shrink on her face.

"Why'd you commit such a villainous act?" He asked, keeping his voice low and temperate.

"Everyone has their bad habits, Blaine." Loxley replied, which only served to irk him even more.

"Nail biting is a bad habit, drinking too much is a bad habit. You call murdering people a bad habit?" Ebony scoffed and chuckled a bit to himself. "That's a real hoot."

He looked away; his gaze wandered the room. When his dark eyes landed on hers again, they were hardened. There were frown lines marked on his forehead.

"Just be honest with me for once and tell me the real reason." He stressed on the word 'once'.

Loxley sighed through her nose, her eyebrows upraised. "Alright, I will be honest with you if not hold my tongue."

Ebony grew silent, keenly watching her. He didn't reveal any positive or negative feelings while waiting for her to speak.

"It was an autumnal evening and I was twelve years old. I remember it as clear as yesterday, when my six-year-old brother came running to me, and he fell into my arms, sobbing." Loxley's eyes were penetrating but they clearly weren't focused on his, rather wandering the memories. "He said, Fluffy, his pet bunny was held hostage by the neighbourhood bullies. I left the house, went straight to the bullies, and beat the daylights out of them. If not for whoever it was that pulled me off, that striplings would've been dead."

"After that incident, I formed a shell around myself because I was scared what I was capable of and I know I revelled in the feeling of my fist colliding against flesh and bone." Loxley spoke with such ease and calmness, like she had come to terms with herself. "I thought that I could bury the urge but things like that don't stay buried."

Ebony kept his reactions in check, merely listening to his former partner speak, like a priest behind the confession box.

"It was during the academy days, already having a bit of a bad day, I was taking a stroll in the chilly night when I caught a man brandishing a knife at a woman. On the spur of the moment, I'd attacked the man and next thing I know he's dead by my hand." Loxley drew in a deep breath and raked a hand through her hair. "I took care of the body and I felt no remorse for my actions."

"After contemplating for couple of days, I dropped out of the academy with a resolve to use my compulsion to good. I've been tracking and researching cold cases ever since." She concluded, her eyes focusing back on his. "The killing is the least satisfactory part but the thought of justice is ecstatic."

Ebony's expression mirrored hers. He was impassive, suspended in his own thoughts. The gears in his head worked hard as he struggled to comprehend Loxley's words. She spoke with an indifference that he found concerning.

"You are completely swept along with your compulsion." He said after a moment's reflection. "I don't know how else to put it."

"We see the worst of humanity on a daily basis, Blaine," Loxley remarked, "It tests your faith in the goodness of people. The killing was a means to an end and, believe it or not, I don't enjoy doing it."

"I don't think anyone can kill someone and think it's right." Ebony countered with a shake of his head. "No matter the justification, murder is murder."

There was no anger, no sorrow, and no bitterness on Loxley's face. Her facial muscles hung loose and free as she sat on that blue chair, welcoming his words.

"That wasn't your call to make, Jamie." Ebony reiterated after a long silence. "Sometimes what you think is right, may not be the right way to do things."

It was a strange feeling as he exited the heavy barred gate. As the gate was slammed shut and locked behind him, it was a hard-hitting reminder that he had left Jamie Loxley and her memories closed behind the massive reinforced concrete walls and razor wire.

The burden he had carried on his shoulders seemed to have left him, like a bird which flew away and is now free.

'Grammy's always right.' He thought.

Peace is truth.