xiii. cracked sky

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  The moonlight glittered on her milky skin

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  The moonlight glittered on her milky skin. Her cherry lips twisted into a sad frown. "You are lying."

The crooked bench in the park squeaked in agreement as she twisted to face the stars. They looked like her eyes. Bright and alive. Erik's heart felt like a supernova. Exploding and in the past; infatuated.

"You always lie."

The grass whistles her words like tuneless melodies of heartbroken souls. "I did not kill your husband."

"Why did you look for me? Why do you not leave me alone?"

"I am not a lair."

She yanked her head towards him. "I would call you everything but an honorable man."

"I did not kill your husband."

"You will not receive the forgiveness you seek from me."

Erik warmed his hands. "Why not?"

"Perhaps it is because twelve years ago you managed to destroy everything good in my life and take it from me."

"Why do you think I killed your husband? Was it the government which told you?"

"Yes."

"And you believed them?"

"I believe whoever my husband trust...ed."

Husband. Husband. Husband. Husband. Husband. Husband. Husband. Cillian Shelby. FBI agent since 1960. Born 1932, December 1st. Father deceased. Mother alive with Alzheimer's. Married October 31st, 1967. Murdered November 1st, 1971.

"I would not kill him."

"Then explain to me who did."

Erik reached into his inner wool coat's pocket. He displayed the tan folder reading SMIRNOV, CILLIAN. "Do you want this?"

He heard a whimpering sniffle as she chuckled. "You have no regard for my feelings, Mr Lehnsherr."

"Neither do you, Ms Smirnov."

"How can you say that?"

"If you did, you would have grabbed my hand."

"If you did, Charles could still walk. Did you know, the first year I would lay awake wondering if I would ever see you again. I never thought of you until my husband was meant to interview you. No, all I imagine is a corpse. Whether it be his, yours, or mine."

"Do you want to die?"

"I feel as if I am dead, Erik."

"I feel most alive when I am around you, Irina."

A small hm rumbled through her pearly lips. "I used to agree."

"Do you want to die, Irina?"

"No."

"Then do not read the file."

"Okay."

"I would say goodbye. But it never feels good when I leave you."

"I can agree."

He pocketed the file.

"Until we see each other again, Ms Smirnov."

"Until we see each other again, Erik." 

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