[ Oh, Carver thinks, and he watches the glass for a moment instead of John. It’s hard not to think of Bossie screaming as he burned. How the instinct to say Pope would never do anything like that withers and falls silent in the face of that memory, and the way it felt to drag the body out into the trees. Carver buried him, little brother who died in pain, and they never spoke of it again. ]
Cw abuse, cult shit
Did you deserve it? [ he asks quietly. ]