If I hadn't insisted on Marlon accompanying me, if I hadn't thrown a fit to come to such a remote place, he might've been rescued in time.
But because it was so isolated, we missed the critical window for help, and Marlon bled out.
I often thought about how helpless Marlon must have felt; he was just a kid.
Diane put all the blame on me, which meant I was never allowed to celebrate my birthday again.
I guess I was foolish, holding onto the hope that Diane might show me some kindness on my birthday, thinking that her not outright killing me was a blessing.
What a delusion that was!
As they packed up the food and headed out to the cemetery, I floated above.
I heard Diane softly murmur to the gravestone, her eyes lingering on Marlon's picture, "Marlon, your mom and dad are here to see you, with your favorite dishes."
Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as Vincent gently patted her shoulder.
"You've been so kind to Marlon over the years," Vincent began, but Diane cut him off with a surge of emotion.
"If it weren't for her, Marlon would still be alive!" Diane's voice cracked. "Vincent, it's our fault, Ashley and mine, we've shamed the Keaton family."
Vincent hesitated, "Actually, Ashley..."