I followed Evelyn into the courtroom and took my seat beside Lester. He sat with his hands in his lap, staring blankly into the space in front of him. When the jurors filed in and took their seats, he didn't even look in their direction.

I turned around to see where Amanda's family was sitting. Once I released Eric as a witness, he'd joined Liza in the balcony. Will and Brad Bailey were there as well along with some other friends and family.

"Will the foreperson please stand?" Judge Stone announced toward the jury box. Juror #7 stood up holding a folded piece of paper in her hand. "Have you reached a unanimous verdict?"

"We have, your Honor," the woman said, bowing her head. The bailiff accepted the piece of paper and delivered it to the judge. He put his glasses on and read it.

"Before I read this out loud, I want to say something. This has been a difficult case. I know there are family members here and I know they may be emotional after hearing the verdict. I expect everyone to remain calm. There will be no yelling or loud crying, please."

He looked down at the paper and read aloud, "We, the jury, find the Defendant, Lester Crowe, Guilty of First-Degree Murder."

There was an audible gasp from the balcony as the judge read the word guilty. I'm not sure who it was, but if I had to guess, I'd say it was Liza Dunbar. Lester never moved, didn't even look in my direction. The sting that typically accompanies unfavorable jury verdicts was strangely absent. Even though I wanted to see him convicted, I thought I would experience that familiar pang of disappointment either way.

"Would you like to poll the jury, Mr. Price?"

"Yes, Judge," I replied, standing. Lester followed suit.

The Judge turned toward the jury box. "Juror #1, how did you find?"

"Guilty," she said.

"Juror #2?"

"Guilty."

"#3?"

"Guilty."

The judge asked each juror in turn and all repeated the same damning word: Guilty.

When he was finished, the judge stood. "Members of the jury, you may be excused." Once the jury was gone, the judge addressed the courtroom.

"I am going to delay sentencing until next Wednesday, November 16th at 2:00 p.m. However, since everyone is here today, any parties that wish to make a statement for the Court may do so."

The victims' coordinator for the District Attorney's office stood. "Your Honor, Liza Dunbar, Amanda's mother, wishes to say something." She motioned toward the balcony. Liza walked down the stairs at the back of the courtroom and made her way to the witness stand.

"Mrs. Dunbar, you can go ahead and make your statement to the Court whenever you're ready," Paul explained.

Liza, eyes puffy and hands shaking, gently unfolded the piece of lined paper she held in her hand. She began to read the statement she'd prepared.

"Amanda was our...."she began, then stopped to compose herself, holding back sobs. "Amanda was our little ray of sunshine. She never met a stranger and always had a smile on her face. She loved cheerleading and cross-country. Amanda loved animals, especially our dog, Max. She wanted to go to school to be a veterinarian. She had so much potential. She was the best thing that ever happened to Eric and me." Liza stopped and looked over at Lester.

"Amanda will never be a veterinarian. She'll never lead a cheer again. She'll never feel the wind on her face as her tired legs pound the packed earth of a forest trail. She'll never make another person smile again, because you took her. I lie awake at night and think about how she must have felt when you took her life at the lake that night. How scared she must have been. And how unfair all of this is.

"After today, all of that will change. After today, I won't think about you ever again. I won't give you that power over me. I'll remember my daughter for the beautiful person she was and we'll move on with our lives, trying to live as well as we can, for Amanda, while you rot in a cell somewhere. I hope the judge gives you the maximum sentence and you never see the light of day again."

She stepped down from the witness stand and stomped towards the door, staring right at Lester as she walked past the attorneys and out of the courtroom, her family close behind her.

"Mr. Price? Does your client was to say anything?"

I leaned over, nervous. Surely Lester wouldn't say anything about what happened in New Orleans, would he? It would certainly be an easy way to get revenge. "Anything you say is against my advice. You always have the option to appeal this," I explained.

Lester stood and began to speak right where he was standing.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." His voice sounded foreboding and vast, like distant thunder. "I stand before you today a free man. Not only a man, but a ruler. A king, by any measure of the word. Despite your insistence otherwise, it's you all—every last one of you—who are the ruled. You're the prisoners who live out each day in shackles of your own making.

"You've heard it said in dusty tomes man's nature is base and corrupt—outright evil, and to deny his nature is what actually makes him holy. You've traded this instinct for reason and discretion because you've convinced yourself this life holds more for you than what you see before your very eyes. I'm here today to tell you it doesn't.

"You've heard, 'Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

"Life is swift and brutal. When it's over, there's nothing else. If you're wise, you'll take the time you have left to live life according to your instincts. If you don't, at least know this: that I, and my people, are living according to ours.

"While you sleep in your beds, curled up under your covers, know that I ride the raging winds.

"When it pours outside, it is I who directs the lightning and the thunder.

"And when the tempest blows, flattening everything in its terrible wake, know that I am its sound and its fury."

For several seconds after he sat down, no one said a word. Finally, Judge Stone found his voice.

"Court is now adjourned. Deputies, please take Mr. Crowe back across the street to await sentencing, before he starts talking again."

A young female deputy approached Lester, who was still standing, and placed a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. He looked down at me one final time, but I refused to meet his stare. Two more deputies approached from behind and the three of them led him out of the courtroom.

As the courtroom emptied, I received a text message from Rachel. So? Is it over? When are you coming to get us?, it read. Guilty. It's over, I replied. Then, a small yellow face appeared, two streams of tears pouring from its eyes. I'm on my way, my final text read.

***

I was standing outside my vehicle in the hospital parking lot when Rachel and Sarah emerged from inside. My daughter began to run when she saw me.

"Dad, I was so scared," she cried, burying her head in my chest. It was the first time I'd held her in over two years. She felt thin, fragile, like a frightened bird that would fly off again if I loosened my grip. No matter what had happened, everything seemed worth it then. I stroked her bleached hair and thought it was beautiful no matter what color it was.

"I know baby," I whispered. Rachel joined in for a group hug, squeezing my side three times to secretly say I love you. It was the greatest moment of my entire life. We were a family again.

Sarah pulled away and looked at me with the face of a girl who hadn't been fed well for a very long time. "Can we get something to eat, Daddy? The food at the hospital sucked."

"Anything you want," I laughed.

Sarah wanted pizza, but wasn't up for going out in public yet. I suspected we'd have a long road ahead. We ended up grabbing a five-dollar pizza and eating it in the pizza place's parking lot. Sarah sat in the front seat beside me and when she reached for a slice, I noticed a scar that hadn't been there before which ran from her wrist to the center of her forearm. I almost blurted something out, but caught myself. Instead, I texted Rachel about it. Please don't mention it, she wrote. I'll explain later.

I grabbed Sarah's arm. "If you ever need anything, you know you can talk to me, right? What happened to you isn't anything to be ashamed about. None of it was your fault."

She forced a smile, exposing bottom teeth that were beginning to crowd. We'd probably need to look into braces. "I know Dad," she said, exasperated. She was a teenager now.

My phone began buzzing on the dashboard. When I picked it up, I saw Mike Cross flash across the screen. Mike was a patrol deputy for the sheriff's department and he'd been involved in many of my cases over the years.

"Hey Mike," I answered as I paced through the parking lot with a slice of pizza in my hand.

"Jack, hey. Did I catch you at a bad time?" He sounded nervous.

"No, man, just eating some dinner. What's going on?" I jammed the last of the pizza in my mouth.

"Uh, I don't know how to say this."

"Well, just say it Mike. You're starting to worry me."

"Jack, Lester Crowe escaped."

"What?" I replied, almost choking. It was the last thing I expected to hear. "How?"

"I wasn't there, so remember I heard this second-hand. They were walking him back over to the sheriff's department and apparently didn't have the leg shackles on because they were short."

"Damnit. I've warned the Sheriff about this."

"I know, Mike. He's looking into it. Anyway, Lester hit Marie. She's got a busted nose and I'm pretty sure it's broken. Spencer's got a broken finger. "

"Jesus."

"Tell me about it. I have no idea how he was able to outrun three deputies, but he did. He's in the wind." My stomach knotted immediately. I looked around the parking lot, but it was empty save for several other parked cars.

"When did this happen?"

He hesitated. "Right when they left the courthouse."

I looked at my watch. "Mike, that was over three hours ago."

"I know Jack. As soon as I heard I was going to call you, but they thought they'd find him pretty quick and didn't want to worry you. Turns out he's smarter than they thought. I figured since it's getting dark, you should know so you can make sure your house is secure. I'm gonna have someone patrol your neighborhood just in case."

"I appreciate that. I guess just call me if y'all catch him."

"Will do. Sorry again, Jack."

"Win some, you lose some."

"Got that right," he said before the line went dead.

If I had to guess, Lester was long gone by now. Coles Creek hadn't been very kind to him and he was facing life in prison. Even so, picturing him loose somewhere out there in the darkness on the first night with Sarah home didn't sit well with me.

"You're never going to believe this," I said to Rachel once I was back in the car. "Lester Crowe is on the run."

"No!" she said. "Are you serious?"

"Who's Lester Crowe?" Sarah asked from the passenger seat.

"No one, honey," I replied. "Damn County was out of leg shackles. They half-ass everything. Lester was able to outrun several deputies and they're out looking for him now. Someone will be on patrol in our neighborhood until they catch him."

"Patrol?" Rachel scoffed. "Don't even try suggesting that we go back to Coles Creek tonight. Sarah isn't stepping foot in that house."

"Okay, fine. Are you saying you want to stay here?"

"That's fine with me," she replied. "For tonight at least."

"Here?" Sarah whimpered, shaking. "I'm scared of this place. Can't we go home? Please Daddy?"

"Not tonight, baby." I hated to keep her in New Orleans another day, but Rachel was right. Sarah was safer here. "You're just going to have to trust me. We'll go back home as soon as we can."

We checked into a nice hotel in downtown New Orleans, ordered room service, and parked ourselves in front of the television. Although Sarah had obviously opened up to Rachel at the hospital, she was tight-lipped around me. She kept a blanket wrapped around her most of the night and just stared at the television, only speaking when spoken to. Whenever she did speak, I got one-word answers. She was still in shock.

I wondered how she felt about me killing Ronald. When I searched he eyes for answers, I found none.

By the time nine o'clock rolled around, she was fast asleep in Rachel's lap. I scooped her up and tucked her into the middle of the king-sized bed, just as I'd tucked her into her bed the night before she went missing. I saw her breath rise and fall and thought about the girl in the Heights. I'd call 911 on our way out of New Orleans in the morning. Rachel and I got in bed soon after. Neither of us could sleep, so we talked about Rachel's conversation with Sarah at the hospital.

Sarah didn't remember much about the day she was taken. She said she was playing around the corner of the building at the back of the playground by herself. She was upset, but didn't remember why. Someone must have hit her in the head, because the next thing she remembered was waking up in the trunk of a car, duct tape over her mouth and hands and her head throbbing. She told Rachel she never saw the person who'd taken her. Thank God.

About six months into her captivity, Sarah tried to escape. Her captors caught her and beat her so badly she was in bed for almost an entire week afterwards. After that, she decided she didn't want to live anymore, so she took a light bulb out of one of the lamps in her room, broke it, and used it to slit her wrist. She said Ms. Beth—she hadn't told Rachel her last name—which must have been the lady I met at the front door, happened to be coming up to bring her dinner and bandaged the wounds before she bled out. Sarah was lucky.

Ms. Beth tied Sarah to the bed for a full twenty-four hours as punishment.

I stopped Rachel there. I couldn't bear to hear anymore. My anger was too potent. Maybe Sarah would open up to me about what happened to her one day, and maybe by then I'd be ready to listen.

When I finally rolled over to close my eyes, there was still no word from Mike. Lester was on the run, somewhere out there in the dark.

That night, I dreamed.

As soon as I opened my eyes and realized where I was, a wave of nauseating panic almost brought me to my knees. No! Please no! This was supposed to be over. I shouldn't be here!

I was on the high hill again—alone. I gazed out over the land; no light escaped the blanket of clouds that strangled the stormy sky. At the bottom of the hill was a wooden structure with two men standing upon it, illuminated by two specks of fiery light twisting and turning in the wind.

A gallows.

I stumbled down the hill and onto the dusty plain below. The gallows stood about twenty feet high, with the single platform upon which the two men stood situated several feet above my head. The two thick posts that protruded up from the platform bore the weight of an even thicker beam that rested horizontally between them. In the middle, a noose was tied. I followed the rope down to where it hung loosely around a man's neck, his head covered by a rough-hewn sack.

Lester Crowe stood beside him. He looked exactly as he did the last time I saw him.

"Howdy, Jack," Lester announced. "Fancy seeing you here."

"What's going on, Lester?" I realized my fists were clenched.

"We'll get to that. But first, I want you to meet my friend." He snatched the bag off of the man's head with a flourish. It didn't take long to figure out the man was me. I—he—was wearing the same thing I was and was trying to speak through the gag in his mouth.

"Any last words?" Lester crooned, pretending to remove the gag and then stopping at the last moment. "What was that?" he asked, turning his ear toward the man. Then he laughed. "No, I don't think I'll take it out. You've said all you need to say."

"Lester, wait... " I held my hands up and took a step toward the gallows.

There was a dull thud as the platform beneath the man released, dropping him several feet. The rope jerked taut, suspending him in space as he swung from the noose.

"No!" I screamed. There wasn't a ladder anywhere to be seen and the platform was too high for me to climb. I backed up again and watched in horror as the man that looked like me kicked and clawed as the rope cinched tighter and tighter. His eyes began to bulge as the skin of his face went from pink to crimson to purple.

"Lester, stop! You're killing him!" I screamed again.

"He's already dead, Jack."

I looked again and saw he was right. The man's face was pale, his lips blue. He'd obviously been dead for some time. I fell to my knees, dry retching onto the cracked earth.

With a poof, the gallows and the man were gone and Lester stood before me in the dirt. He looked groomed, even dignified, and wore the same black suit from before.

"Let's talk, Jack Price." Lester took my arm and pulled me to my feet, leading me over to two wooden chairs off to our right which hadn't been there previously. He sat down and watched as I did the same. "You've been feeling odd since you killed Ronald, haven't you?"

"How did you know?"

"Well, Jack, I felt it." He held one hand over his chest and the other over his stomach. "One in the chest and two in the gut! Man, what a moment."

"No, I meant....about how I felt."

"Oh. Like you've been split in two? Have you started talking to yourself yet?"

"Yes," I answered, rubbing my temple.

"That's normal. Don't worry too much about it, okay Jack?" We were close enough that he was able to reach his over and place his hand on my shoulder. "Sooner or later, one of the parts—the one you call your conscience, I suppose—will be gone. Or, mostly gone. You killed him."

"The man you hanged. That was me."

He chuckled. "Yes, that was you. A part of you. A little gruesome, I admit, but you know I like to show rather than tell." His tongue flicked in and out of his mouth. "And now, what remains of you is mine."

Mine. It sounded so final. "You're a cheat, Lester. I found Sarah on my own. I never completed the deal."

Lester sighed. "I'm not sure you're ready for this. You looked a bit queasy over there. Let's just do this another – "

"Lester! Tell me how! Why!" I commanded.

He thought about it for a moment. "Fine," he said, resting his elbows on his knees. "I don't do this for everyone, but you've been through more than most." He breathed in deeply. "Jack, I've been doing this a long, long time. Longer than you can understand, even with everything you know about me. One thing I've learned about Man in all that time is that at heart, he's an animal." He stopped to let it sink in. "A smart animal, but an animal all the same. Without his evolved brain, of which he is most proud, I can assure you, he would be just another beast of the field. He fears, he covets, he hates, he connives, and he kills. He does not choose to do these things in the same sense that he chooses what he will cook for dinner; no, they're hardwired into him, have been since the very beginning of time itself. The very first cave drawing was a depiction of a man, spear in hand, standing over another man's dead and bleeding body. I've seen it." He smiled. Then, his face darkened.

"For a long while, Man was content with behaving like an animal. Then, he screwed things up. At a certain point in his evolution, he convinced himself in order to live in a proper, civilized society, he must deny this animal instinct and instead follow what I call his human instinct. Man, in all his conflicted glory, is also born with the capacity for love, discretion, humility, and fairness. This human instinct is what drives him to love his fellow man and to, at times, to place the well-being of others above his own. To live life for its own sake was no longer enough; Man now began to strive to fulfill some "higher purpose," whatever the fuck that is. He relied on his will to accomplish this—his rational mind—which allowed him to ultimately choose which of these instincts—animal or human—would rule him. Are you following me so far?"

"Go on."

"Now, I know you've figured out how I feel about this grave 'ol dilemma Man has created for himself. In fact, I told you, myself, the very first time I brought you here. I want him to follow his animal instinct and act according to his nature, because that's who he was made to be. That's when he's at his very best." His eyes lit up. "There's no greater feeling than when the dam of one's emotions bursts forth upon another living being. You felt it, Jack. Wasn't it grand? Anyway, ever since Man veered off his original path, I've been trying to steer him back. And my other half, well, he's been trying to stop me."

I remembered that part. "What has this got to do with me?"

Lester looked a little perturbed. "I thought you would have gotten it by now. Okay, let me spell it out. At the end of their lives, those that have done what you would call "evil", for lack of a better term, become mine. The others become his. For a long, long time it was just a counting game. We both wanted to see how many bodies we could rack up, but that got boring fast. Everything changed when I realized I could take ownership of certain people while they were still living! Yippie-ki-yay, as you so eloquently put it! Some of those—the most depraved, the most jealous, the most hateful—started to come my way on their own, while the others needed a little push. After a while I got very good at figuring out which type of person had the most potential for greatness and those were the souls I began to focus my time on. That's how I came to find you, Jack."

"Because I had some kind of sick potential?"

"Oh, but you did, Jack! So much potential. I knew if you got angry and desperate enough, you'd blow the fuckin' doors wide open! You had a great head start without me though, Jackie boy. After all, the whole purpose of your fucking job is to convince twelve people to acquit criminals for the crimes they've committed. Killers, rapists, wife-beaters, it doesn't matter to Jack Price. Get 'em off! You can flap on all you want about the Constitution, but I'd say getting a guy who robbed a store clerk and then murdered the only witness off on a technicality is at best morally ambiguous and at worst sociopathic."

Eddie. "This is complete bullshit!" I said, leaning forward in the chair. "That's my job, I – "

"But that wasn't enough!" he went on. "Sarah being kidnapped was the spark that sent it sky high! The pain and desperation of losing her opened you up like a treasure map. After she was gone and your marriage crumbled, you didn't have anything else left to lose. You were like a powder keg ready to blow. All you needed was a little direction, so that's what I gave you. Use my powers to get an accused murderer off free, and I'd give you your marriage and your daughter back. But you'd have to make people do and say things they wouldn't normally do, possibly ruin people's lives in the process. Remember Judge Evans? Oh, and that little girl in the Heights? The one you said you'd alert the police about just as soon as you found your daughter? Well, it's too late Jack. She's dead, bucko. She choked on her own vomit after they shot her up with a lethal dose of the brown stuff."

My eyes welled with tears. "I couldn't help it! Sarah was still out there!"

His eyes twinkled. "You sold me your soul without a second thought. All you wanted was Sarah back."

"But I didn't go through with it!" If he wanted me to blow, I'd give it to him. "You were found guilty thanks to me!"

"Ah, yes," he went on. "That's where it gets tricky. There's always a backup plan. I've been dealing with Man for a long time, Jack. You think you're the first poor shmuck who's tried to outsmart me? Give me more credit than that. Instead of holding it against you—because what's the fun in that?—I gave you just enough rope to hang yourself." He glanced over to where the gallows had stood.

I felt the stinging realization wash over me like holy water. "By pushing me toward Ronald Babineaux," I said, almost to myself.

"Ding! Ding!" he said, excited. "It had to be your idea, though, so I provided just enough information for you to figure the rest out on your own. I knew if you did somehow manage to find Sarah—which I wasn't sure you were capable of to be honest—you'd likely run across Ronald in the process. That's where potential met opportunity and... POW! POW! POW!" He held his hand up like a gun as his body shook with laughter. "What a moment! Oh, to have been there to see Jack Price reach the pinnacle of his existence! And to see Ronald Babineaux plead for his life. Didn't it feel grand?"

I wanted to say it had been a terrible mistake, but found I couldn't. All I could think about was how much Ronald deserved it. I stood there with my mouth open like a hooked fish.

"The change has already started," he grinned.

"So either I win at trial or kill Ronald, but either way I lose. Is that it?

"Now you're getting it." Lester was so pleased with himself I though his smile would break through the edges of his face.

"What if I hadn't killed Ronald?"

That deflated him a bit. "Well, I suppose you'd have Sarah back and I'd be on my way. But your instinct won Jack, you should be proud of that."

I dropped my head as the remainder of the fight bled out of me. I felt scammed, except deep down I knew that wasn't really fair. There was no lie—not really. Lester was more like a magician who, by sleight of hand, had picked my pride from my pocket and used it against me. He set the pieces in motion, knowing what was likely to happen, but it was ultimately me who made the choice to kill Ronald.

"This was just a game for you, wasn't it? I was doomed from the beginning," I finally said.

"I'm afraid so, Jackie boy. I do know how to pick 'em. But let's not think about that! What's done is done. And I wouldn't fret about what you did at my trial. Like I said, you were already mine by that point. Seeing you violate your ethical duty and willfully sabotage my case was sweet, but an expected precursor to what's coming."

"What do you mean?"

He faltered, but only for a split second. "Okay, this is usually the hardest part." He stood up. "Eventually, your conscience will die off altogether. What's left is just animal." The lightning, which I'd failed to notice before, cracked behind him in the distance.

His words felt like a punch to the stomach. "So what does that mean? I'm going to become...what? A criminal? A killer?"

"Some do, but others handle it differently," Lester replied. "You've seen the result already. I believe you call them the broken men, which is more accurate than you could have known: they are indeed missing pieces of themselves. Eventually, you'll become one of them. They...act according to their nature, to put it bluntly. Soon, you'll lose the taste for judging right from wrong too." I held my arms up, inspecting my skin. I didn't look anything like the broken men. "Oh, you'll only appear like they do to other broken men. To your family, you'll look just as you do now, although eventually they may not recognize you for other reasons."

"You bastard," I replied softly.

"Now, now. You did this, not me. And don't blame yourself too much. You were only doing what you were made to do. Nothing more." He turned to walk away.

I stood and called out his name.

He spun around on one foot, creating little whirlwinds of dust that twisted and turned between his feet.

"Did you kill Amanda Dunbar?" I looked him dead in the eyes. "You owe me the truth."

He looked like he'd expected the question. "To hell with the truth, Jack. Amanda's dead and her family will go on living with a piece of themselves missing. It doesn't really matter who took that piece, does it? Focus on your family. Go back and spend as much time with them as you can. Your daughter needs her daddy." He made to leave, then turned around again.

"You know, as much as you probably hate me, you can't deny that I fulfilled my end of the bargain. When you said the word deal, you knew what you were getting into, despite not getting there the way you expected. You haven't had a beer in weeks, Jack. Rachel and you are a team again. I can see the love in your eyes right now and feel your heart breaking in your chest while you decide how to break this news to her. And, most importantly, you have Sarah back. Don't worry about the scars. Time's a bastard, but it heals. Eventually she'll be okay—I promise you that. So go home to your family and cherish them while you can, Jack Price. You still have some good days ahead. Sooner or later though, I'll call you. And when I do, you'll have to come. Goodbye, Jack. For now."

He whistled as he walked away.