Clarity retreated slowly, like a man trying to escape a shadow. It was true—he hadn’t killed Ari. It was true that he had been the one to untie that young man and attempt his rescue. But it was also true that he was a piece of that very same criminal gang.
"Stay right there!" the young man hissed.
Clarity froze, feeling the cold, hard muzzle of a firearm pressed firmly against his neck.
"Who are you?" the stranger demanded.
"I... I’m just someone who came to visit his late father’s grave," Clarity replied, his voice trembling.
"You were watching me. Why?"
"No... honestly, I was just passing through. I finished my visit and was on my way out."
The stranger lowered his weapon and turned to face him fully. He scanned Clarity’s face with a piercing, scrutinizing gaze before whispering, "Clarity!"
It was him—Aaron.
Clarity’s heart hammered against his ribs in sheer terror. "How... how do you know my name?"
"I’m the same person you had that 'lovely' chat with in front of your stolen house. Plus, I heard your gangster friend, Jake, calling you by that name back then. You remember, don’t you? The warehouse... the kidnapped boy you claimed to save. I know you well, Clarity."
Aaron lowered his gun further, his eyes narrowing. "Were you watching me? Acting as a member of the gang?"
Clarity struggled to keep his composure, trying to process the encounter. "I’m not, I swear. I’m no longer part of them. I’m sorry for what happened to you; I was ignorant of their vile actions."
Aaron stepped closer, looming over Clarity. His face was inches away, and in his sharp, intense eyes, the reflection of the moonlight burned like a dying fire.
"You were ignorant?" Aaron sneered. "Their drug trafficking, their endless thefts, the seizures of property, the kidnappings—you were ignorant of all of it?"
Aaron stood up straight. "I don’t care about you, Clarity. But don't you dare try to absolve yourself. You are a part of every dirty deed that occurred. You’re lucky I’m a man of restraint, trying my best to suppress my rage. Perhaps it's only because of your help that night that I’m letting you walk away while you’re still within my reach."
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Clarity stood up abruptly, reached out, and grabbed the barrel of Aaron’s gun, guiding it toward his own shoulder. He whispered, "Then shoot me. There’s no need to be merciful."
Aaron smirked, unimpressed. "And why your shoulder? Shouldn't I just aim for a killing blow?"
"Maybe it would haunt you," Clarity countered. "I’m not Ari’s killer. And besides, if I die, there are those who will avenge me."
Aaron smiled bitterly. "Even Ari has someone who will avenge her death!"
"Then go and take your revenge on him!" Clarity screamed. "I know very well that those gang members are scum—addicts, troublemakers, thieves, and kidnappers. And I was rotten for being among them. But I know for a fact they don't kill. My trust in one of them is the only thing keeping me from accepting that they could be murderers!"
"Right in front of me!" Aaron roared with indignation. "A girl lost her life because of him. That bastard leader deserves to die. I will punish him, that is certain. So do not try to defend him in my presence!"
Clarity whispered, "Then I will help you. If it turns out they are killers..." He remembered his dead puppy and added, "...I will stand by your side. I will help you destroy them."
"And what could you possibly do?"
"You'll see, if my suspicions are proven true."
"It doesn't matter. I’ll do it with or without you."
"What’s your name?" Clarity asked, trying to lower the tension.
"Now is not the time for questions! But fine... I am Aaron. I’m leaving. And I hope I never see you again."
Aaron turned to walk away, but stopped. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Damn it. I’m forced to meet you tomorrow. Nine in the morning. Meet me at the Clock Park."
"Why?"
"Last time, I found a lunch box near you. I’ve kept it. From that day, when you were unconscious."
"Were you the one who took me to the hospital?"
"Yes. My sister found you there and begged me to help. She’s too kind; she can’t tell who deserves help and who doesn't. And I’m not a man who can refuse his sister, so I helped."
Clarity approached him. "Thank you. To you and your sister. But... the dog that was...?"
"It was dead. I buried it near that tree. I wrote your name on its grave."
"That was supposed to be my grave, wasn't it?"
Aaron smiled mockingly. "I wrote your name on it while wishing that exact thing."
Clarity whispered, "Thank you, Aaron. Perhaps I’ve just found a purpose worth living for."
Clarity spent the rest of the night near his father’s grave, reflecting on everything he had endured.
The sun rose while Clarity was still asleep. An old man tried to wake him and offered him shelter in a small room near the cemetery, but Clarity declined. He stood up, brushing the dirt from his clothes.
It was eight in the morning. The sun was bright, and the air was mild.
Clarity offered a faint smile of gratitude to the old man, picked up his bag, and headed out of the cemetery toward the Clock Park.
It had been a long time since he last visited. The last time, he had been with Jake. As soon as he remembered Jake, he lifted his hand to touch the silver watch—the one made of small, interlocking rings.
Can I really move past you, Jake? he whispered to himself.
A painful moan escaped his lips; his sick stomach was completely empty.
He smiled faintly, whispering, "It doesn't matter. It hurts either way, whether I'm starving or full."
Clarity stopped at the sidewalk across from the park gate. Jake was standing right there!
Clarity took several steps back.
He couldn't cross the street. He had to stay away from Jake!