Chapter Twenty-Four – Let Me Burn First
The knock wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
It sounded like someone hoping not to be answered.
Mireille's hand froze at the hallway bannister. She looked at Nuria, who sat half-curled in the blanket on the living room floor, since she refused to go to her own room, eyes wide and unblinking.
Again.
Knock. Knock.
Milo came down the stairs slowly, his steps hushed, but purposeful. "Stay here," he said to Nuria. His voice had changed. Firmer. Older.
Mireille nodded once, her face sharp with memory. She moved into the hall with Milo, toward the door.
Then Milo stopped. His chest rose once, long and hard. His hand lowered from the doorknob.
"…It's him," he said.
Nuria's heart seized.
As if by some invisible thread, her body rose. She walked toward the foyer like a woman walking toward her own grave.
Mireille grabbed her hand. "Don't."
"I have to," Nuria said. "I have to."
The door creaked open.
Asa stood in the night, half-lit by the porch lantern. Shadows hollowed out his face. His shirt clung to him with rain and sweat. Hair damp. Eyes wild. Chest rising.
He looked at her.
He looked like a ghost who didn't realise he'd died.
"Nuria."
She didn't answer.
Behind her, Milo moved forward protectively. Mireille didn't blink.
Asa's jaw trembled. He looked at Milo, then Mireille, then back at Nuria. His hands were empty.
"I need to talk to you," he said.
"You can't be here," Mireille replied coldly.
"I know," Asa whispered. "But I came anyway."
Nuria's throat pulsed. Her voice came faint: "Why?"
His lips parted. Words didn't come. Just a breath.
Then he stepped forward.
Milo blocked him.
"I just want to talk to her," Asa said, eyes desperate.
"She doesn't want to talk to you," Mireille snapped.
But Nuria said, "Let him."
Milo hesitated—then stepped aside.
Asa entered slowly, eyes never leaving hers. Every step he took sounded like glass cracking beneath bare feet.
She led him into the sitting room. Mireille followed. Milo stayed in the doorway, arms crossed.
Asa didn't sit. Neither did Nuria.
Silence hovered. Thick. Uneven.
Then Asa spoke.
"Do you remember the day after we met in class during college? Outside the lecture hall. You were carrying three books and a fruit cup."
Nuria didn't answer.
"You said something about the smell of mango making you trust people faster."
A soft, broken laugh escaped his lips. "You said, 'Anyone who likes mango can't be evil.'"
A pause.
"I believed you."
He took a breath like it hurt. "I still believe you."
" You strangled me," Nuria whispered.
His face broke.
Tears filled his eyes, fast and hot.
"I know."
"I thought you were going to kill me."
"I know."
"Why?" Her voice cracked. "Why, Asa?"
He looked at her then. Truly looked.
And then...
He reached into his coat.
Milo stepped forward, but Asa pulled out the gun slowly, holding it by the barrel. He placed it on the coffee table between them.
The metal glinted. Cold. Dead. Waiting.
Everyone froze.
"I brought it to kill you," he whispered.
Mireille gasped softly.
"Then I realised I want to die instead, I tried to kill myself but I realised, it wasn't right, for me to do it."
The words were not theatrical.
They were… simple. Quiet. Terrifying in their sincerity.
"I know you killed my father," Asa said. "I know it was you."
Nuria's breath caught.
"That night—when we were kids—I saw the gun in your hands. I saw my father fall. I saw the blood. I never forgot it. And the man— he's been whispering in my head for years. He told me and kept reminding me, after I had gotten revenge on everyone there that night, except you ."
Nuria's eyes widened. Her hands trembled.
"I didn't shoot your father," she said softly. "I shot mine."
Asa flinched like he'd been struck.
Silence collapsed over the room.
Mireille stepped back slowly, her hand over her mouth.
"I thought I was protecting my mom," Nuria whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and sorrow. "Your father— I didn't understand then what was unfolding around us. He shot a piercing glance in your direction, but as quickly as it came, he averted his eyes.
I caught that moment, that flicker of intensity, and turned to look too. Beneath a shattered table, I saw a boy crouching in fear that day—not clearly, just the shadow of him—but it was enough to know he was hiding.
The memory of my mother's bleeding lips lingered hauntingly in my mind, a stark reminder of the pain I had witnessed at home. Panic surged within me; the thought of my mom suffering like that again was unbearable. I just wanted everything to stop, to shield her from that anguish. In a desperate moment, I pulled the trigger.""
Asa stared. Breathing uneven. Vision blurred.
In a moment of chaos, I found myself facing my father when I shot him. His eyes burned with fury as he struggled to lift his own gun toward me, despite his falling state. Just as I stood there, frozen in disbelief and bracing for the expected pain from his retaliatory shot, I was struck by the realization that your dad had stepped in front of me, taking the bullet meant for me.
"You were just a child," Mireille said softly.
I know," Nuria whispered, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions. "But I had to make a choice… and I chose you. Asa's dad, he saved my life that day."
Asa broke then.
He dropped to his knees.
As he processed the revelation, disbelief washed over him. For so long, he had been convinced that Nuria was responsible for his father's death, convinced that she needed to face consequences for her actions.
But in that moment of clarity, he realized the truth: it was never her fault. Overwhelmed by emotion, tears began to stream down his face, the weight of his misunderstanding finally crashing down on him.
The sound he made was not a sob. It was lower. From somewhere beneath language. From some place older than memory.
Milo turned away, jaw clenched.
Mireille's eyes filled—but she didn't step forward. Not yet.
Asa gripped his own skull, nails digging into his hairline.
"I've ruined everything."
Nuria knelt in front of him. Slowly. Painfully. Carefully.
"I loved you," she said.
He shook violently.
"I still do," she added, her voice small.
There is no need to harm anyone, especially not yourself.
Mireille stepped forward now. Gently knelt beside them both. Her daughter and the boy who was now her son in law .
"I should hate you," she whispered to Asa. "But I see my husband in your pain. And I see my daughter in your regret. And I refuse to let that cycle win again."
Asa lifted his eyes.
"I don't want to be like this."
"Then don't," Mireille said.
But I hate myself, I hate me, I caused everything, I am to blame for everything.
A pause.
Asa reached out for the gun in one breath. He placed the cold tip of the gun to his head.
And kept repeating, I am to blame for everything, it's my fault.
Nuria felt a wave of panic wash over her as the color drained from her face. Instinctively, she moved closer to Asa, her heart racing. Desperate, she attempted to wrest the gun from his grip, but he retreated into the depths of the room, putting distance between himself and anyone who might try to intervene.
"Don't Asa, please ."
For the first time since Asa arrived, Milo's voice broke through the silence, laden with urgency and sincerity.
"Put the gun away, Asa, Mirelle said with panic.
Asa, please, don't do this, Asa you said you have done a lot of cruel things, but please don't be this cruel to me and leave me a widow, please, and much worser, don't leave your child fatherless, you know how it's like to grow up without your biological father who loved you by your side, but at least you got an adoptive dad who cared, but whose going to care for this baby when you are gone. Don't leave your child alone by choice Asa , don't , please, Nuria said in tears.
But what good am I going to do for that baby . It needs a good dad, whose going to be there for it, but I am not, I am not that person, Nuria, have you seen me, I strangled you, and I always had that thought lingering somewhere in my mind, I am just a broken person, who can never be put back together, I am a worthless person. what is my use even on this earth, I am a waste of space. Like my mom said, you deserve better, you deserve the best, not me, you and the baby don't need me. Asa said , almost about to pull the trigger.
Asa no, NO!
No!!
You don't have to do that, please Asa, you are not worthless, to me you are worth everything, yes you strangled me and I left, but that doesn't mean, I stopped loving you, you might think you are a waste of space but to me all I want is you in my space, you are not broken Asa, you just need a little help to show you that, to help you deal with your emotions better and to help you come into terms with what has happened.
Asa do you love me. Nuria asked sadly.
Or have you at least loved me at one point?
Silence.
Yes, I do, I did, with all of me, and I just realised it, I was blinded by revenge and anger from my dad and families death, that I confused those feelings up with my love for you. I can't believe I almost killed you, and thinking about that now, I know I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I had killed you. Even if I still didn't know the whole truth.
I want you to know that even though I didn't end you, I still struggle with the fact that I dared to lay my hands on you. It breaks my heart to realize this, especially after you revealed that you didn't kill my dad. I can't help but feel as though my emotions are completely broken.
Asa, listen, nothing about you is broken, you said you love me right, you love me enough to want to kill yourself right now, then Asa, listen, I want to ask this of you now, please, would you please, stay alive instead, would you show me you love me at this moment, by putting that gun down and letting as get you help, please Asa.
B-but...
No Asa, enough, do you love me that much to do that for me, answer me Asa, Nuria said desperately.
Pause.
Asa nodded. Once.
With trembling hands, he lowered the gun from his head, a heavy burden lifting from his heart as he chose to seek a way forward.
His hands still shook as he bent down, dropped the weapon and pushed the weapon aside. Far from himself. From her.
Mirelle breathed out a sign of relief as she wiped away the tears she didn't know fell all this while.
Milo stood frozen, tears brimming in his eyes and his legs trembling beneath him. The fear and shock gripped him tightly as he processed the near tragedy he had just witnessed—the boy he had helped to nurture and cared for over the years, someone he considered almost like a son, had almost taken his own life right before him. In that moment, Milo was overwhelmed with the weight of what such a loss would mean, especially in terms of how he would face Madam and what he would say if tragedy had struck. The thought of it left him feeling utterly helpless.
---
Later that night, Mireille stood at the end of the driveway beside Nuria. They watched as two medical personnel gently helped Asa into a quiet, unmarked van. His wrists weren't bound. His hands were open.
His eyes met Nuria's as the doors closed.
She raised a hand.
He raised one back.
Not a goodbye.
Just... I see you.
---
Inside the house, Milo finally sat down.
He buried his face in his palms and wept.
Not for Asa.
Not for Nuria.
But for the boy he once protected—and the man he couldn't save.