Chapter 162 Epilogue 4: Marcus’ Farewell.

Chapter 162 Epilogue 4: Marcus’ Farewell.
Epilogue 4: Marcus’ Farewell.

Qiara’s POV

Several Months later…

I sat in the visitor's booth, waiting for him to arrive.

Glancing around the room, I could hear the faint murmur of families and friends speaking to their loved ones. Tear-filled eyes. Hands pressed against glass. Promises to return home soon.

The person I was waiting for, however...

There would be no tears.

No promises.

No homecoming.

The person I was waiting for would receive only one thing from me:

A complete release from my former self.

"Come on, Inmate 4519. Your visitor is here."

When the guard led him out, my eyes widened.

His hair was dull and unkempt. His skin looked dry and worn. His eyes were hollow.

And his face...

His face looked as though every ounce of life had been drained from it.

I remained silent as I watched him lower himself into the chair.

For a few moments, we simply stared at each other.

Then he picked up the receiver.

I did the same.

I spoke first, my voice flat and exhausted.

"What do you want, Marcus? Why'd you call me here?"

Marcus was silent for several seconds before finally speaking.

"Hello, Qiara. You look well."

I said nothing.

A bitter chuckle escaped him.

"I know you probably hate me. I guess I des—"

"I don't hate you, Marcus."

His words died instantly.

"I don't feel anything for you anymore. Now tell me what you want."

He flinched as if I'd struck him.

For a brief moment, sadness flickered across his face.

"I..."

The word caught in his throat.

"That day at the trial... I wanted to tell you something."

My brows furrowed.

"What?"

"You were wrong."

I froze.

"Wrong about what?"

Marcus lowered his gaze.

"I didn't always hate you. I didn't always want to hurt you. I was just..."

He trailed off.

For a moment, I thought I saw tears forming in his eyes.

"There's no excuse, Qiara. I was so obsessed with Angelina... so in love with her... I couldn't see past anything else. Not the innocent people I hurt. Not even my own sister."

His voice cracked.

"I crossed lines I never thought I would. But Angie... it was like she used sex to control—"

"Stop it, Marcus."

The sharpness of my voice cut through the room.

His eyes widened.

My expression hardened.

"Don't you dare blame Angelina for the choices you made."

"I wasn't—"

"Every decision. Every move. Every horrible thing you did was your choice."

My hands tightened around the receiver.

"And let's be clear—you didn't hurt people."

My voice trembled with fury.

"You murdered them!"

Jacob.

Andrea.

Paul.

The names burned through my mind.

Their blood was on his hands.

"Did Angelina tell you to kill Jacob?"

Marcus lowered his head.

"What about Paul? Gretchen?"

I leaned forward.

"You did all of that on your own, Marcus, so don't you dare sit here and pretend otherwise."

He opened his mouth, but no words came.

"And you know what?"

My eyes stung.

Not from sadness.

From anger.

"Whether you were sleeping with your sister or not, you would've made the same choices every single time."

Tears blurred my vision.

He had murdered me once already.

Then he had tried to do it again.

He didn't get to pass the blame.

"You're sick, Marcus. Period."

He recoiled.

"What kind of person sleeps with the woman who was raised as his sister her entire life?"

My voice cracked.

"Every move you made, every decision—it was all part of some twisted attempt to trap Angelina in a cage where you'd be the only person she needed."

I shook my head.

"You did that. Not Angelina."

The tears finally escaped.

"I was your sister."

The words came out almost as a whisper.

"All I ever wanted was for you to love me. To protect me. To be my brother."

I swallowed hard.

"Instead, you treated me like the enemy."

Silence.

"So here we are."

Taking a deep breath, I wiped my tears away.

This would be the last time I cried for him.

The last time I cried for any of them.

Across the glass, Marcus looked completely shattered.

His fingers trembled.

Tears streamed freely down his face.

"Qiara..." His voice broke. "I'm so fucking sorry."

A sob tore through him.

"I swear, I am. I didn't... I..."

He buried his face in one hand.

"I'm sorry."

His apologies dissolved into crying.

And as I sat there staring at him, I realized something.

I believed him.

I believed he was sorry.

But what did it matter?

What value did regret have after everything was already destroyed?

Marcus had stolen my life once before.

To forgive him now would be a betrayal of the girl I used to be.

The girl who suffered.

The girl who cried.

The girl who died.

I owed her better.

"Your apology means nothing to me, Marcus."

His head snapped up.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

"No!"

His voice cracked through the room.

"Don't say that, Qiara. Please."

Slowly, I stood.

The sight before me wasn't tragic.

It was pathetic.

"Goodbye, Marcus."

"Qiara, please!"

His cries were becoming frantic now, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

"They sentenced me to death!"

Several heads turned.

His chest heaved.

"I can't die knowing you never forgave me!"

I almost laughed.

Of course.

This wasn't about making amends.

It wasn't about me.

It was about him.

Marcus wasn't afraid of what he'd done.

He was afraid of what came next.

I reached to hang up the phone.

"Qiara, wait!"

I ignored him.

"Christian told me something!"

My hand paused.

"He told me you died in your former life!"

Everything inside me went cold.

My face paled.

What?

How would Christian know that?

I looked back at Marcus.

He was a complete wreck.

"He told me you died in a car accident."

His voice shook violently.

"Alone. Abandoned. Pregnant."

The room seemed to tilt.

"And I..."

He broke down crying again.

"I can't stop thinking that maybe I..."

He couldn't finish.

He didn't need to.

I knew exactly what he meant.

That in my former life, he'd won.

That everything he'd done had ultimately led me there.

A bitter taste rose in my throat.

"Qiara, I promise."

He clung desperately to the receiver.

"If I'm ever given another chance... I swear I'll be the brother you deserved."

I stared at him for several long seconds.

Then I answered.

"If you're ever given a second chance, Marcus..."

My voice was calm.

Steady.

"I pray the gods make sure we never meet."

The last bit of hope vanished from his eyes.

"Be well."

And with that, I placed the receiver back in its cradle and walked away.

His cries followed me all the way to the exit.

I never looked back.

I didn't know what waited for me in another life.

But if the gods were listening...

May they ensure I never cross paths with the Claybornes again.