𝘀𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝗹 𝘁𝗼 '𝗺𝗶𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗿' book 2 of 3
on the outside, looking in, bianca prescott was back to who everyone knew her as- kook princess, island royalty, who couldn't give less of a fuck about the pogues like they were poo on her jimmy choo's.
b...
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Penance is a sacrifice, a voluntary punishment to show remorse for sin. The more grievous the sin, the greater the self-inflicted suffering. For some, the ultimate penance is death. But for Ward Cameron, it was simply a means to an end.
"A great man once said that if you're born poor, that's not your fault. But if you die poor— well, that's on you."
Bianca held her breath as she watched the smug face of Ward Cameron flash across the screen. He sat at his desk, wearing a white dress shirt with a complacent smile on his face as he spoke his last words. She didn't know when he recorded the video, but it couldn't have been long before he blew up the Druthers and himself along with it.
"I think in the end, it was my fear of going back, of losing everything I have that made me lose sight of everything I am," He continued solemnly. "...Everything I wanted to be."
Sarah merely glanced away, unshed tears threatening to slip down her cheeks as she scoffed in annoyance. Bianca remained still but felt Wheezie's hand grip hers harder. Rafe swallowed thickly, no longer shackled in handcuffs, and instead paced behind them like a free man.
"I killed Big John Routledge. I murdered Sheriff Peterkin. I shot Gavin Barnstead."
Rose stifled a sob, her hand darting up to cover her mouth. Lydia was at her side immediately, pulling her friend into a warm embrace. Bianca's mother had decided that the loss was enough to put aside their differences for the day and wanted to be there for Rose. Bianca didn't protest because she had already planned on not letting Sarah out of her sight.
"Michael Prescott did not kill Gavin Barnstead, I did," Ward didn't hesitate through his explanation. "I orchestrated everything, including telling him to lie under oath. His involvement was entirely me."
At the man's words, Bianca glanced at her father, who hadn't been watching the video but listened intently from the opposite side of the room. Michael's gaze landed on his daughter before glancing away with shame swirling in his hues at the accusatory glare she sent him.
Michael had been staying at the Cameron's for the time being ever since Lydia kicked him out, just like Shoupe and Bratcher said. It was evident by his disheveled hair, unironed dress-shirt, and unkempt appearance.
"Michael, I can't put into words how truly grateful for everything you've done for me and my family," Ward spoke directly to the man now, recounting all the times he had covered up for him. In a way, the two men had become more than just accomplices in crime, maybe even friends, "All I can say, is that I owe you my life."
Michael scoffed bitterly, tipping the glass of whiskey in his hand in cheers before turning to stare back out the window. He pressed his arm against the door and then his forehead— Ward had saved them all by taking the fall, a small sacrifice for the greater good.
