35. 2022

EMMA

EXECUTION DAY

It's only me on this side of the room. I sit, without my usual bag of work essentials, in a long-sleeved, ankle-length black dress. My hair, which I usually keep long and loose, is tied back in a slicked ponytail. I don't hide my eyes behind large-rimmed sunglasses like the other women in the room. I want Bunny to see me, the solidarity in my glare, when she sits in that seat behind the glass.

To my right, I casually eye the onlookers and the families of the deceased. I refuse to turn around and face the media, but fight to keep my expression neutral as the cameras flash behind me.

The first row holds the mayor's family. His wife, Mary, is a sunken-in bleached blonde with a perpetual scowl. There's no sorrow or sadness in her frown, only sheer misery. Her children, well into adulthood, repeatedly ask if she's okay—if she's ready for this. She answers the same every time.

"I want to get this over with."

The same can't be said for the cop's family, whose delicate-framed widow sobs uncontrollably in her daughter"s arms.

Sophie, I remember her name to be, shows no emotion behind her glasses, but there's no tension in her shoulders, no deep breathing or an anxious twitch. I want to believe she remembers what Bunny and Cade did for her, but I'll never know for sure.

The second and third rows are taken by the families and friends of Colette and Nathan, who hold up signs with the victims" faces on them as a remembrance. As if Bunny would ever forget.

The fourth and final row remains empty, but that's the seat I watch for. Surely, Ignacio Marone wouldn't miss the execution of the woman who tried to murder him. I tell myself that can't be the case. I need to see his face when it all goes down—when his world crumbles.

While the voices of the room pile on top of each other, I fidget in my seat, eyeing the clock above the big glass window. The electrocution isn't supposed to happen until 10:00 a.m., giving me only one more hour to pull my shit together and breathe. I remind myself that I can't fall apart, that I can't show the despair on my face because she deserves only strength.

Comfort.

I did what I could, and now all I can offer is support.

"I'm not surprised to see you here."

Turning, I watch as Susie sets her oversized leopard purse at her feet, face flushed and frazzled. Her coat smells of smoke, but her eyes are crazed. No amount of nicotine could calm her for this.

"You're here," I say when she finally takes her seat, the sensation of gratitude beginning to flow. I didn't think anyone but me would be sitting in this section, which was a hard enough pill to swallow, knowing Bunny would look out and see no one but strangers.

Susie doesn't respond immediately, choosing to glare across the room for a minute or two instead. When she's decided that the cameras have had enough, she faces me, skin paling a fraction. "Yeah, well…" She pauses, a slight shake of remorse. "I couldn't let my girl go alone. I-I wasn't there for her when she was inside, but I can be here now."

I can hear the regret in her confession. I decide not to attempt to relieve her of it, understanding this is a guilt she has to overcome on her own. But I take her hand, soundlessly assuring that Bunny already forgives her.

Hand in hand, we wait together as the minutes tick by on the clock. Almost at max capacity, the room thunders with dozens of different conversations. All of it is meaningless, as if we're not all about to watch a woman lose her life. Listening to the selfishness of others, I feel the ends of my patience fraying. I've never been one for confrontation, but I know I'm ready to explode. It isn't until a large, out-of-focus figure passes through my peripheral that my anger turns to dismay.

I shouldn't be surprised. I hoped for this, but I almost can't believe my eyes as I watch Igancio Marone sit among us. Of course, he settles with the mourners, but he so clearly stands out. The air around him doesn't reek of victimhood or devastation. Instead, he sits higher than the rest. Even in the final row, the power of him dominates those ahead.

As if he could feel me, he angles his head to confront my glare, displaying the rugged, choppy scar running from mouth to ear. In interviews and conferences, he's recounted the events that led to his wound. A disfigurement, he called it—a horrific reminder of the worst moment of his life.

We all ate it up. Everyone in the goddamn country devoured his tale and made him a god for surviving. I stare at it now and feel a sickness rising for being one of them. Now that I know the truth, I offer myself a bit of forgiveness.

Turning away, I hide a grin behind a long sleeve, counting the minutes. It is only minutes now. 9:50 glows on the overhead clock, a looming reminder of what's about to come.

I'm about to ask Susie if she's going to be able to handle this, when the seat to my right fills. Confused, I shift in the warm plastic and promptly lose my words.

"I hope you don't mind. I know there are empty rows, but I… I didn't want to sit alone."

Tears immediately well beneath my lashes as I take in her wild, coiled curls and red-rimmed, crystalline blue eyes. Only slightly older than me, I study the girl I wanted to befriend so badly—the little girl Bunny loved with all her heart.

There's no way I can explain how intently I'm staring without tearing apart our entire story. So, forcing myself to blink away, I kindly shake my head. "Of course," I explain, choking back tears. "How do you… How do you know Miss Walters?"

Missy seems to think about that for some time, tears running and stopping repeatedly before settling on an answer. "She wa-is my sister." She says it with as much strength as she can, but the word breaks her anyway. Like Susie, I know Missy never visited Bunny either, and though I may not know her reasons, I see it's been eating away at her as well.

I can't offer her anything but my hand, which she takes with respect.

Stuck in the middle, the three of us wait until the final minute hits. At exactly 10:00 a.m., the doors behind the glass window open, stealing the breath of every single person in the room. At first walks in the warden, a stern-looking man with no expression other than exhaustion, followed by a slim female doctor, who appears like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

I can't help but agree with that when, finally, two officers walk through, Bunny's petite form in the middle. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see Officer Cyrus is one of her guards. At least she'll have that comfort when the time comes.

As if she were an animal at the zoo, the warden displays her to us all, showcasing a beaten, broken woman before guiding her into an enormous wooden chair. The officer beside Cyrus flips a switch, allowing us to hear the noises inside the room. Like us out here, they're silent as they strap her in, lips in a hard line while attaching probes to various sections of her head and legs.

"I'm going to be fucking sick," Susie hisses beside me, dipping her head so she doesn't have to see. I squeeze her hand in agreeance, fighting back the shivers that make me twitch. On the other side, Missy trembles, practicing breathing techniques with a greenish tint. I refuse to look over at the crowd, knowing if I see any smiles or smug faces, I'll literally explode.

When Bunny is all tied in, the warden turns to face us. "At this time, we offer the condemned a chance to speak their last words." With a quick nod, he gives her the floor, stepping aside so she may see us all.

I expected her to search the crowd first, find Marone among the throng of her victims. To my surprise, she looks to me, shooting a soft grin before doing the same to Susie. It's Missy she lingers on the longest, smile falling faintly until it morphs into the purest brand of shock.

Through the echoey speaker, I listen to her choked inhale before she releases a watery laugh. Holding out her hand, she spreads her fingers wide. "I love you, jellybean."

Missy breaks down beside me, holding her hand out in the same way. "I love you, too, Bunny."

It's only after that reassurance that Bunny searches among the heads. She overlooks every single one, ignoring the scathing stares and wailing cries until the one she wants pops out at her.

At this point, I thought I'd seen every form of her smile, but this one she saved just for him. Bunny doesn't have complete range of her arms, so she uses whatever movement she has with her finger to mock the scar on Marone's face.

"Do you think of me every time you look in the mirror? Do you see my smile in every reflection, Mr. Marone? How about Cade? Do you see him, too? I do. He's with me now. Can you feel him?"

Marone shifts uncomfortably in his seat, as does everyone else but me in the room. They're appalled that Bunny would address him so casually, but from the look on his face, I don't think he expected anything different.

"Are you excited to see me die?" She continues, her smile only growing. "Finally ready to be rid of me? Let me tell you something. You can take my breath. You can take my life, but that scar, the faces you see when you look yourself in the eye, those are mine. Your thoughts, they belong to me. They belong to Cade. You get to live with that, Mr. Marone. It"s our gift to you, a reminder of who you belong to."

The warden motions to cut her off after that, but he's a fragment too late. We were ordered to turn our phones off when we entered the room, but they all ring together, regardless. I'll never fully understand how Officer Cyrus's friend programmed my recordings and anonymously typed reports to hit every news station and social media outlet at once or how he made sure every electronic device received it, but as I sit inside the chaos, listening to the sound of Bunny's voice echoing out of dozens of speakers, I can't contain my excitement.

And neither can she.

I can barely conceal my elation when I see that grin light up her expression. Bunny's laughter is uncontrollable as the recording continues to play, and her face is full of victory when she sees the viewers taking it all in. Finally, I watch the weight of her pain release from her shoulders as she settles back against the wood.

"I can go now," are her last words, and she goes with a smile, finally resting with her other half.