Re: Hannah & Jeremiah; Jester's Court
She didn't think he was blameless or perfect, but she didn't need him to be. People were flawed, cracked and put back together like those gorgeous vases in museums, the ones that looked prettier after than they had before they cracked. She knew he was worried. She knew him well enough to know he was concerned about what she thought, and she squeezed his fingers as wordless reassurance. I'm here. I'm still here. I'll touch you. I haven't gone anywhere. See? And she knew it must've been hard for him. She didn't know if he'd made any films, if he was well known. Amy had been dead for two years now, and Hannah had only recently begun watching things on Netflix, and before has been Marcus and Marcus and Marcus, and watching things wasn't something he liked. But, and even if he was only a little bit known, it must've been hard. She didn't blame him for hiding.
"Why did he do it?" she asked, and maybe there was no knowing, but she thought there was more to it than whatever substance Jeremiah put into the drink. "Have you talked to him? To her family? Have you talked to your family about it?"
She let the questions go silent then, and she gestured to the bottom of the ferris wheel. They were high, high, but they would come down again. "When we reach the bottom, we'll step out, and I'll hold your hand, and we'll walk, and we'll both carry out shadows with us, and it'll be okay. The trial is done, Jeremiah, and you're free, and that's all that really matters. Right?" Maybe it wasn't, not entirely, but it was all that mattered right now. She thought, briefly, briefly, of David, and she wondered if David would mark him, Jeremiah, for dead. Probably, but David saw things in black and white, and the world was nothing at all but shades of gray.