Shelby smiled at him, a small, apologetic smile. "Can I come in?"
Questa nodded briefly, several strands of his wild dark hair falling into his eyes. Those eyes, looking hollow and sunken in his face, followed Shelby's every movement, watching carefully as she entered the room, closed the door and sat down in the chair near the desk. She swiveled in the chair and looked at him. As she struggled to make direct eye contact, Questa looked away, pain and misery the only emotions visible on his pale face.
Shelby desperately wanted to move, to go over and sit on the bed and hold him, the way she had done so many times since she met him. She had learned early on that he craved hugs, craved just being held, the way a person walking in the desert for a long time craved water. But as desperately as she wanted to go to him, she stayed where she was and waited. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Questa spoke, his voice not much more than a whisper. Shelby had to strain to hear it, even in the quiet of the room.
"T'ought you weren' comin' back."
Heart pounding, stomach tied up in knots, Shelby closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. Trying to keep the hot, burning tears from spilling down her cheeks. "Everyday, I go over the events of that night...remember everything that was said or implied...and everyday I hate myself a little more for what I did." She said quietly before opening her eyes and looking over at him again. "Do you know what I did, Questa? And why I did it?"
Questa shook his head. "Non...je ne sais pas."
"I lied to you that night. I said so many things, as I was packing, and only one of those things was the God's honest truth. I lied to prevent you or any of the others from stopping me or following me." Shelby admitted. "If I hadn't already made up my mind to do what I was going to do, I never would have lied...never would have left."
A confused expression flitted across Questa's thin face. "I don' understand...couldn' you have jus' changed your mind?"
"No." Shelby shook her head sadly. "I couldn't. Because you are the reason I did everything I've done since that night. I couldn't bear to see you in so much haunted torment and pain anymore. I watched you, feeling completely helpless. You jumped at every noise, ready to pull out a gun and start shooting, and flinched away from every shadow you didn't recognize. Questa that's no way to live! I couldn' stand to see you like that anymore. So I made up my mind to try and eliminate the cause of your fear at its source."
Questa, who had been studying the pattern on his comforter while Shelby spoke, suddenly looked up, his eyes wide with alarm. 'Oh mon dieu please tell me she didn' do what I t'ink she did!' He thought in panic. Aloud, he said,
"You...you...Shelby tell me you didn'..."
Shelby got up off the chair and crossed to the window, moving the curtain to look outside. "That's why I couldn't tell you my plan. I knew you'd either stop me or follow me and I couldn't risk that. But..." She sighed deeply. "I did, yeah. When I called you on your birthday, I had been in Seattle for two days and had found them with remarkable ease. Stephen caught up to me on the 20th, and we put a plan together. He helped me. We did the job two days ago."
Questa blinked, absorbing the information as it came to him. "So dey're..."
"They're dead, Questa. They never knew what hit them." Shelby confirmed softly, turning away from the window to face him again. "When I left I promised myself that I would not return unless they were dead. And no, what I've done doesn't bother me. Hell, I lived in this house for a year, I'm more than a little conditioned to the fine arts of assassination and theft."
Shelby sat down again and waited for Questa's reaction. She didn't have to wait long, but what he said wasn't what she was expecting.
"You said dat only one of de t'ings you told me dat night was de truth...what was it?"
"The truth surrounding all this has always been one thing, Questa. The same thing that was my reason for doing this. I love you." Shelby said, barely able to get the three most meaningful words in the world out. The tears that had been threatening for the duration of the conversation spilled over, making salty tracks down her cheeks. She couldn't help it.
"You love me." Questa said quietly. It was his turn to get up and cross to the window, his comforter wrapped around his fragile body like a shield. The pain was evident in his voice as he continued to speak. "I can understand mos' of your actions...an' I'm grateful for de shadow bein' lifted, but...Shelby...look at me. When you left, I fell apart...worse'n I ever did b'fore in my whole life. Everythin' I was tryin' to work towards was suddenly gone from my life, presumably forever. Jus' ask anybody else in dis house...de world crashed an' burned at my feet an' dere was nothin' left. Nothin'! I haven' eaten a single t'ing since you left. De only reason I leave dis room is to take showers an' go to de bathroom."
He turned to face her finally, his dark blue eyes swimming with tears of hurt, confusion and anger. The ones that managed to escape were trickling down his face, ignored. "An' den you come back here an' tell me all dis stuff...you're sayin' you did everythin' b'cause you love me. Shelby...de mornin' you left, my heart shattered into a million sharp, tiny pieces an' I'm s'posed to b'lieve dat you did dat to me b'cause you love me?"
"It's the truth!" Shelby sobbed. "Can't you see that?"
"Right now...I can' see anythin'. Dere's so much...I need to t'ink. Please go...You don' have to leave de house or anythin', but I jus' need to be alone right now...I need to try an' sort dis out..." Questa climbed back up on his bed and curled into a fetal position, as he always did when everything became too overwhelming for him to bear. Salty tears flowed from beneath his dark eyelashes, but Shelby didn't see them. She did as she was asked and left the room, closing the door softly behind her when she went.