I turned back into the living room, where James still stood, his hand frozen in midair. His face was a mask of shock and confusion. He didn’t look grateful; he looked terrified.

“Why?” he whispered, his eyes searching mine, desperately trying to understand this final, baffling act of mercy. “Why did you lie for me?”

I looked past him, toward the shadows that had consumed both of us for so long.

I hadn’t lied for him. I had lied because, in that moment of absolute freedom, I realized I still didn't know the full truth of the monster he was—or the monster I had become. And until I did, I...