Kearney clutched his head, his voice a mix of anger and despair. "Stop, just stop talking."
The truth was a cruel torture to Kearney. For years, he had fueled his life with a deep-seated hatred, shaping himself into a monster as a form of twisted remembrance. It was his creed, his path, his very purpose in life.
But in a single moment, it all seemed to crumble into nothingness.
"I don't believe it, I just can't!" Kearney protested.
But what if it was true? What about everything he had stood for?
The irony that the person he had despised to his core was actually his benefactor was a bitter pill to swallow. It was laughably absurd, yet painfully true.
Agnes spoke with a gentle firmness, "Deep down, you know it's true, Kearney. Your mother always knew you were smart; she left you clues hoping you'd uncover the truth instead of harboring this vengeance. You got it all wrong, Kearney. So very wrong."
Kearney fell silent, the agony of his realization forcing him into a chair, his fingers white-knuckled around the letter that he nearly tore apart.
"It's too late, all too late," Kearney lamented, his voice breaking. "Just end it, end me. Do it now."
Reggie raised the gun with a heavy heart. "Kearney, you've made some grave mistakes. Even if you harbored hatred enough to wish me dead, why Sean? You've become a monster, incapable of remorse. Go and seek forgiveness from Sean."
In the dim light of the room, the echoes of past mistakes and the hope for redemption hung heavily in the air, a tragic tale of misdirected vengeance and the painful journey towards truth.
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