Noel dropped the newspaper back on the table and slowly looking lifted his head to look at his father.
Three bodies. One night. The killer had meant what he wrote.
He already knew that. He had read the letter. He had just not expected it to happen before he even woke up.
He exhaled quietly as he closed his eyes and placed his right hand on his chest.
"May their souls rest in peace," he said.
The table was quiet for a second.
Then Noel looked at his father again.
"That's not why you called me down here," he said. "Is it?"
His father set his tea down.
"No," he said. "It isn't. I have more to say."
He looked at Noel across the table, thinking about how to say something and had decided to just say it.
"The killer is dead," his father said. "The papers confirmed it. The execution happened. Everyone saw it." He paused. "So why is the killing still going on?"
Noel went still. He didn't like where this was going.
"Who exactly is the killer?"
He knew what was coming next.
