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Wolfgang and Eva were dead.
The lawyer was electrocuted to death, and the mathlete was burnt to a crisp. All that remained in tact of the latter was the feather that was once attached to her headband.
The same feather that was now in Damon’s hand.
Somehow, the feather had flown its way over to him and landed at his feet when the execution ended. When everyone else left the trial room, he picked it up and took it with him.
It was all that remained of the girl that he trusted, the girl that betrayed him.
The girl that made the first kill.
And yet, although Damon considered murder an unforgivable crime, he lacked the energy, much less the ability, to be mad at her.
If anything, he only felt…empty.
Twiddling the black feather between his fingers brought him a strange sense of comfort, if only small. He could never bear to part with it, even though it once belonged to a sinner.
“It’s because…I trust you.”
An outcast.
“It’s Damon who’s suspicious!”
A liar.
“Damon… I thought you trusted me…”
A killer.
“I’m…GOING TO LIVE!”
A soul long gone.
Several memories flooded back into Damon’s mind, memories of moments that he had many mixed feelings about, feelings he could never be able to describe.
And he believed that he never would, now that the person associated with those feelings was dead.
Not wanting to sulk anymore, Damon slowly got up and began to leave the room, putting the feather in his pocket. He didn’t care where he ended up in, he just didn’t want to be in the dorm building.
With slow steps, Damon made his way to the courtyard, hoping to be alone.
Eventually, he arrived, being greeted with the sight of the faux sky becoming a night sky, littered with fake stars.
He was also greeted with an unexpected sight in the courtyard.
Grace Madison, sitting in the pavilion, fiddling with something in her hand.
At the sound of the door opening, the golfer looked up and quickly noticed the debater. Her gaze narrowed.
“Oh… It’s you…” she grumbled.
Damon raised his hands in surrender. “Just so we’re clear, I’m unarmed and not willing to cause any trouble right now.”
Grace scoffed. “As if you could land a good hit on me, soybean…”
Ignoring the remark, Damon walked over to one of the hedges and leaned against it. He then took out the feather from his pocket and began fiddling with it.
He was careful to not damage the quill, scared that a single wrong movement could break it. He knew how delicate feathers were.
The debater wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it was silent for some time until Grace spoke up.
“So… you miss the mathlete, huh?”
Upon hearing the question, Damon looked up and saw Grace standing in front of him, her gaze curious.
He said nothing in response to the golfer’s question, yet it seemed as if his silence was a response in and of itself to Grace.
“I suppose I understand. Betrayal can leave a mark. Trust me, I would know,” she continued as she walked over next to the blond and leaned against the hedge.
Damon didn’t look at Grace, yet he could tell that she was looking at him.
A long sigh escaped the golfer. “Besides, you’re not the only one mourning…”
At those words, Damon snuck a glance at the golfer and saw a small object in her hand.
Wolfgang’s sheep lapel pin.
“You took his lapel pin?” Damon asked, his voice laced with exhaustion.
“I took it seconds before the trial started,” Grace replied.
Damon looked at the lapel pin in Grace’s hand, then back at the feather in his.
He and Grace couldn’t be any more different, that much he knew. And yet, there were two things both of them shared.
They lost someone they trusted to this killing game, and they only have a piece of the one they lost.
A piece that will never be whole again.
Just then, Grace moved from her position against the hedges and made her to way to the door that led to the dorm building. As she was opening the door, she stopped and turned her head to look at Damon.
“Soybean, I’m only gonna say this once.”
Damon tilted his head. “Hm?”
“Don’t lose that feather, because it might become the only thing that will keep you sane.”
And without another word, Grace left, closing the door behind her and leaving Damon alone.
Damon looked down at the feather again.
Maybe Grace was right. The feather may be a reminder of the person it belonged to, but it was also a reminder that he needed to move forward.
And maybe, just maybe, he understood Grace a little bit more.
After all, it was the same reason she had Wolfgang’s pin.