Exhibit 14: "Variant"

I had about half a second before literal hell broke loose. In that moment, I thought of my mother again.

I wonder if she ever thought about me after she ran—other than in contempt, anyway. I mean, Mama June says they hadn't even sewn her back up. If she even made it, she's probably never walkin' again.

I kept expecting her to pop out of the furnace behind 'em, say she was behind the whole thing and also a goddess and also loved and hated me and the reason I had magic powers was the special sauce of my own soul, not the dark nonsense she was part of. She wanted to set me free of the burdens on her, whatever they were, but also wanted to kill and entrap me, and we'd have a tragic epic showdown, and I'd get one lil' moment where I'm sad, but then I finish the job and I move on and my life is daisies afterward. I don't know where all the hope suddenly came from.

This one might be a cheat, but… there's a painting Viola showed me as a kid called Variant. It's of a lumpy egg in a bird's nest, surrounded by its smoother siblings. The bird was nowhere in sight.

That was probably where my whole deal came from. Made me feel better about my bald head, anyway. Bein' different, seeing and doing new things I'd only ever heard of, including killing someone in cold blood, was more exciting than I'd ever dreamed, even if it earned me the scorn of my less lumpy surroundings. Maybe being killed by the direct hand of a devil or a god would be the fresh climax of that life.

I don't know where I'm goin' with this. It seemed like Viola wanted to set me free in her own way, but—why the fuck didn't she say somethin' before? I was most of the way there early on, I still could've been convinced.

Anyway. I decided to make my own version for this little stop before the end. Just seemed right. They were robin eggs in the original, but mine are crow's eggs, because—well, you get it by now. It's a relic of a memory of a home I'm not sure I quite have anymore. Maybe I still do, but never the same again.

Constance was probably watching, granting me a reprieve the length of a blink. Watching over both of his children, and the wreck we'd made of his home.

I locked eyes with Viola. I'd never been able to tell what she was thinking, even right after she told me, but even though I didn't sign the contract, I think we made an agreement of sorts. I wouldn't run away from the pain anymore, whatever that meant. Even if I was rent apart, I'd spend every inch of life left trying to get back. Even if all we had was the ghost of a home, we'd both hold on.

Then I shot Reishan in the face.

GALLERY OF FORTUNE SIMPLECREEK—RECEIPT—9/18/1316

EXHIBIT #14: "VARIANT (VARIANT)" SOLD TO CARMEN ROSELESS (250 GP)