Giotto Sabatino lived in a little trailer in the woods outside the tiny town of Hurlock, Maryland. Giotto\u2019s brother Carlo bought the trailer for him in 2002 after the vigilantes burned down the old wooden shack that had been his home. The vigilantes wanted to burn Giotto to death for what he did to his wife and kids, but they only succeeded in scorching the top of his head. A flaming beam fell on him as he escaped the torched shack, melting the flesh clean off his scalp.<\/p>\n
A man can understand how a woman can drive a man to madness, but a man has only himself to blame if he lets himself go all the way into it. It\u2019s simply beyond the pale, of course, for a man to kill the woman he loves, but it was well known around town that Giotto had committed a crime even worse than uxoricide. He\u2019d also murdered his son and daughter, and buried them with their mother so deep in the earth that no one had ever found a trace of them in the decades they\u2019d been missing.<\/p>\n
Carlo felt that blood was still blood, and he owed a certain loyalty to his brother no matter what he\u2019d done. He only saw Giotto on Sundays when he brought him his weekly groceries, but he never stayed long. \u201cYou home, Giotto?\u201d Carlo said, unlocking the bolt and entering the little trailer, putting the heavy paper bag on the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m always home,\u201d Giotto mumbled, coming out of the bedroom with his 83 Orioles hat on. He always wore the 83 Orioles hat to cover the burn scars on his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave you eaten breakfast?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRan out of food last night,\u201d Giotto said, removing the milk and Shredded Wheat from the grocery bag and pouring himself a bowl.<\/p>\n
\u201cI really wish you\u2019d go with me to Mass, Giotto. No one\u2019s ever at the 7am and no one would even know you were there,\u201d Carlo said, putting away the rest of the food in the fridge and cupboard.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t fear for my soul,\u201d Giotto said, delving into his cereal.<\/p>\n
\u201cEvery man should fear for his soul,\u201d Carlo said, closing the cupboard.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPerhaps you should,\u201d said Carlo, \u201cFr. Francis will be here in about an hour. Give him a chance, Giotto. Don\u2019t be so resistant. Just listen. He wants to help you. Try to open up to him. There can be grace if you come back to faith.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t fear for my soul, I never have.\u201d said Giotto.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know, but I wish you would,\u201d said Carlo.<\/p>\n
\u201cI won\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carlo was distressed by his brother\u2019s nonchalant attitude toward things immortal. \u201cHow can you be so cavalier about the next world, Giotto, especially considering what might await you there?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhatever awaits me at death awaits everyone else,\u201d Giotto said.<\/p>\n
There was a time when Carlo believed in Giotto\u2019s innocence, but Fr. Francis finally wore him down, and convinced him that even though Giotto had never been convicted of anything, the evidence of his guilt was overwhelming. \u201cA woman and her two small children simply don\u2019t disappear into the ether,\u201d Fr. Francis would tell Carlo when they discussed the matter. \u201cIf his wife had run away with the kids, surely some sign of them would\u2019ve appeared in all these years!\u201d<\/p>\n
Giotto\u2019s family vanished from their home in Seaford, Delaware on Saturday, October 22nd, 1983. Giotto had been out at a bar the night before and was as desiccated as a desert rock when he woke up. \u201cHad to drink like a fish last night, didn\u2019t you?\u201d his wife Angela said, looking down at him on the bed. \u201cYou didn\u2019t think your children would want to spend Saturday with you? It\u2019s one in the afternoon for God\u2019s sake, Giotto.\u201d<\/p>\n
Giotto rose, wobbly, and put on his clothes. He was seeing double. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, honey,\u201d he said, \u201cI lost track of the time last night when I was out with Carlo. He wanted to take me out to celebrate the Orioles.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Orioles won the World Series a week ago,\u201d Angela said as the children dawdled up to her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, but we couldn\u2019t celebrate like we wanted to on a Sunday since we both had work the next day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDaddy! Daddy!\u201d the children cried. They wrapped their little arms around Giotto\u2019s legs and smiled up at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet Daddy go, kids, I\u2019m not feeling so well,\u201d Giotto said. He’d suddenly become nauseated.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, for the love of God, Giotto!\u201d Angela said as her husband pried the children off his legs and crashed through the bathroom door and fell to his knees before the toilet bowl. \u201cHow disgraceful!\u201d<\/p>\n
Giotto ejected several bolts of vomit and buried his head in the bowl after flushing the toilet. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, honey,\u201d he moaned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong with Daddy?\u2019 the little girl asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s nothing, sweetie. He\u2019s just a little under the weather.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen will he be better?\u201d asked the boy.<\/p>\n
\u201cIn a while, honey,\u201d Angela closed the bathroom door halfway. \u201cA fine role model you are for your children!\u201d she said to Giotto. \u201cJust look at you there, is this who I married, is this who you are?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m so sorry, honey.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou should be ashamed of yourself, Giotto, drinking until you\u2019re sick. I\u2019m going to Hurlock. I\u2019m taking the kids to Grandma\u2019s. I don\u2019t want them around you when you\u2019re like this. Sleep it off and drink plenty of liquids. Maybe we\u2019ll come back this evening if you clean yourself up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll clean myself up right now, Angela. I don\u2019t want you going to your mother\u2019s and running me down.\u201d Giotto tried to get up from the toilet, but weakly fell back to his knees.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt looks like you\u2019ll be spending the day on your knees, and it\u2019s not even Sunday!\u201d Angela said.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t go, Angela. I\u2019ll be better soon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re going to Grandma\u2019s,\u201d Angela said, leading the children out of the bedroom.<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you, Angela. I don\u2019t want you going to your mother\u2019s and running me down!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe has every right to know her daughter married a drunkard, Giotto!\u201d<\/p>\n
Feeling somewhat relieved after evicting the sick from his stomach, Giotto rose from the bathroom floor and lumbered to the front door to prevent Angela and the kids from leaving.<\/p>\n
\u201cGet the hell away from us, you stinking lush!\u201d Angela said, trying to push past her husband who was blocking the exit.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not going anywhere.\u201d Giotto grabbed her firmly by the wrists. \u201cI told you, I don\u2019t want you running me down to your mother!\u201d<\/p>\n
Angela freed her right wrist and slapped Giotto across his stubbled face. \u201cYou\u2019re a sack of shit, Giotto!\u201d she roared. \u201cMy mother was right about you! I married a loser!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou married a loser, eh?\u201d Giotto grunted, knocking Angela to her knees with a hard slap across her cheek.<\/p>\n
\u201cI should leave you, Giotto, and be a mistress to Carlo, who loves me more than you know,\u201d Angela said. She rubbed her wounded cheek with a malicious grin, and the children began crying.<\/p>\n
The pain that cut through Giotto\u2019s heart was razor-sharp, like when the dentist\u2019s needle stabs the nerve in the tooth\u2019s pulp. He thought how easy it would be for a man of his strength to get rid of his family once and for all if a man of his strength really wanted to. He knew that his fears were true. Angela had betrayed him with Carlo.<\/p>\n
The longer that Angela and the children were missing, the more suspicious the police and public became of Giotto. His wife and kids had been seen at the grocery store that Saturday morning, but they were never seen again after they went home. The family\u2019s vehicle, a 1980 midnight blue Ford Bronco, was gone, but Angela and the children never made it to Angela\u2019s mother\u2019s in Hurlock, and Giotto never bothered to file a missing person\u2019s report in the days that followed. It was only on October 26th that Angela\u2019s worried mother went to the police station and filed one.<\/p>\n
\u201cGiotto has a temper, and I\u2019ve always feared for my daughter,\u201d the old woman told the officers. \u201cI\u2019m sure he did something to her, something terrible, but not just to her, to the children as well!\u201d<\/p>\n
The police interrogated Giotto, but they had nothing on him, \u201cAngela ran away and took the kids,\u201d he told them. \u201cMaybe she went to New York where she has relatives.\u201d<\/p>\n
When the investigators interviewed Veronica McFadden, Angela\u2019s closest friend, she told them that Angela and Carlo had been having an affair for years. \u201cIf Giotto found out about it,\u201d she said, \u201che\u2019d seek revenge. He was that kind of a man, hot-blooded.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut why would he harm his children?\u201d the investigators asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d Veronica said. \u201cMaybe he didn\u2019t think they were his. Maybe he thought they were Carlo\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n
When the police interviewed Carlo, they could see he was nervous. He sweated profusely and his voice cracked. \u201cWere you having an affair with your brother\u2019s wife, Angela?\u201d they asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow dare you even insinuate that, you bastards!\u201d Carlo answered. \u201cI\u2019m a good Catholic! I\u2019m married to a beautiful woman and we\u2019re raising four small children!\u201d<\/p>\n
Carlo, perhaps not such a good Catholic after all, never confessed the affair to anyone, not even to Fr. Francis.<\/p>\n
After several weeks, the police got a warrant to search Giotto\u2019s home but they didn\u2019t find anything. \u201cWhat would they find?\u2019 Fr. Francis used to tell Carlo when they discussed the matter. \u201cGiotto probably didn\u2019t spill any blood because he strangled his victims, and even if he did stab them or bash their brains in, several weeks is plenty of time to clean up the crime scene.\u201d<\/p>\n
Giotto lost his business and then his home in the months that followed. He was an electrician and no one would hire him. That\u2019s when Carlo, guilt-ridden and wanting to make amends, purchased the little patch of land with the wooden shack on it and let his brother move in. Without the bodies or evidence of any kind, the police were never able to charge Giotto with a crime, but he served hard time anyway. Despised and rejected by everyone in Hurlock and the surrounding towns, he never left his isolated shack in the woods. Only when the vigilantes burned the shack down in 2002 did he leave the little patch of land to go to the hospital to dress his burns. Carlo provided for Giotto materially and financially but was forbidden by his wife to bring him around his nieces and nephews. She was sure he\u2019d murdered his children and didn\u2019t want him to murder hers.<\/p>\n
When Carlo bought the trailer after the shack was burned to cinders, he stipulated that Giotto had to speak to Fr. Francis for \u201cspiritual counselling\u201d one Sunday a month if he wanted to live in it. Fr. Francis was a wiry little man with deep brown liver spots splotched all over his hairless head like the flecks on a speckled egg. When he made it down the narrow dirt road that twisted to Giotto\u2019s home that hot July day in 2014, he got out of his sedan and hobbled up to the trailer door where Giotto was observing him through the peep hole.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello, my son,\u201d Fr. Francis said when Giotto swung the door open. \u201cIt\u2019s nice to see you again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCome in,\u201d Giotto replied, leading Fr. Francis to a little couch across from the table where both men sat down. \u201cWould you like something to drink? Something to eat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo thanks, I\u2019m full.\u201d Fr. Francis leaned back and swung his right calf over his left shin. \u201cIt\u2019s too bad you didn\u2019t come to Mass today, Giotto, I know your brother would\u2019ve loved to have taken you. Carlo told me that himself. Fr. Dominic gave a lovely homily on repentance. He spoke of how St. Peter betrayed Christ when he denied him three times. Could there be a greater sin than denying our Lord and Savior in the flesh? I can\u2019t think of a greater sin than that, can you Giotto? But St. Peter repented for his sin and was forgiven. He now sits by the throne of Christ in the highest Heaven. It just goes to show that you can be saved if you repent. Do you agree, Giotto? What do you think about that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think Peter was afraid. When he looked into the abyss, he didn\u2019t believe in God anymore, just like most of us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, but he repented. What do you think about that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think he repented because he was afraid. He feared that without repenting he wouldn\u2019t be saved. I think his repentance was selfish.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t think St. Peter\u2019s repentance was genuine, Giotto? You don\u2019t think he knew what he did was deeply wrong, and aggrieving to God?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEvery aspiration of faith is selfish.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs it selfish to seek forgiveness from God for one\u2019s sins?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I believe it is. If God didn\u2019t want to be sinned against, he never should\u2019ve made us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you\u2019re forgetting about freedom, Giotto.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, Father, I know. Freedom makes us evil.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt doesn\u2019t make us evil, but it tempts us to deny God and put ourselves first, to be selfish, in short. To repent for one\u2019s sins is to declare to the Lord that one isn\u2019t evil, even though one has done evil.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s the point of repentance if God doesn\u2019t exist?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis world\u2019s but a transitory phase in the Divine scheme of creation, Giotto, but your soul is immortal, never forget that. The anguish you experience in this existence will be annihilated in the Kingdom of Heaven. Try to have faith, Giotto, never give up on it. Faith will lead you through the sorrow of this world and into bliss eternal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t think that\u2019s true, Father, with all due respect,\u201d said Giotto. \u201cThe sorrow of this world is all we\u2019ll ever know. The only solace I take from Angela and the kids being dead is that they don\u2019t have to endure the sorrow of this world anymore. Death is freedom.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut how do you know they\u2019re dead, Giotto? How do you know for sure?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s been more than thirty years, Father. They\u2019re gone. Something evil destroyed them.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow well do you know this evil, Giotto? Is it something inside you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEvil\u2019s inside us all, isn\u2019t it, Father? Isn\u2019t that what your faith teaches about your Devil, without whom your God would have no use and nothing to do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIf the Devil is inside you, he can be purged, and you can be cleansed,\u201d Fr. Francis said. \u201cWith faith and repentance, you can be forgiven for even the gravest of sins–even killing your wife and kids.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you know I killed them, Father?\u201d Giotto asked, removing his 83 Orioles hat and running his fingers like the legs of a spider over the deep red scars on the crown of his bald head. His eyes narrowed into slits and the right edge of his mouth curled up in a sneer.<\/p>\n
\u201cOnly God knows what lies in the darkest regions of our souls,\u201d Fr. Francis said, uncrossing his legs and leading toward Giotto on the sofa. \u201cYou can\u2019t hide any secrets from the Lord. That\u2019s why the best thing you can do is repent. Confess your sins to God and let the burden of guilt lift from your shoulders.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I don\u2019t have a burden of guilt on my shoulders, Father, I never have, and I never will,\u201d said Giotto. \u201cThe Devil inside me is no different from the Devil inside you, or the Devil inside anyone else. Suppose for a moment, Father, that I did kill Angela and the kids. Would wrapping myself in the garb of your faith, saying all my prayers and going to Mass every day, really evince a deep-seated yearning for forgiveness, or would it merely be an exercise in selfishness, an assertion of my own centrality to the morality play your faith claims is the essence of the world?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat would depend on whether you really wanted to be forgiven, Giotto. If you did, you would be, even for the vilest sin, like killing your family; if you didn\u2019t want to be forgiven, you wouldn\u2019t be, and you\u2019d pay the price forever. God sees through every hypocrisy and deception that dupes and beguiles mortal men. But what\u2019s immortal is what\u2019s important, Giotto. Your soul is the most precious possession in the world, as is mine, and everyone else\u2019s, to recognizing that isn\u2019t selfish, it\u2019s simply realistic. If there\u2019s a stain on your soul it needs to be removed, Giotto, and the only way to remove it is to repent and ask God to forgive you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t deserve God\u2019s forgiveness, nobody does.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be so hard on yourself,\u201d said Fr. Francis. \u201cI can intercede with God on your behalf, all you have to do is confess.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHard on myself?\u201d Giotto said with a laugh. \u201cIs that what you think I\u2019m being? Hard on myself? I don\u2019t need to be hard on myself, the world\u2019s been hard enough on me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cConfess to me, Giotto,\u201d said Fr. Francis, \u201cand set your soul free!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll never confess to you, nor to anyone else!\u201d Giotto said with contempt. \u201cI\u2019ve had enough of you today, Fr. Francis, I\u2019ve tolerated you for too long, now I think you should be going.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVery well, Giotto, if that\u2019s what you want, I\u2019ll go, but I\u2019ll see you next month,\u201d Fr. Francis said, getting up and moving to the door. \u201cJust think about what I said, and don\u2019t give up on God just yet, God hasn\u2019t given up on you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think God has given up on everything,\u201d Giotto said, \u201cif God ever existed in the first place.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAlways leave the door open for faith, even if just slightly.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBe on your way, Father,\u201d Giotto said opening the door and shooing the priest out. \u201cBe on your way, and I\u2019ll see you when I see you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Giotto was disturbed all day by Fr. Francis\u2019s visit. He grew increasingly agitated as darkness descended on the forest that concealed him from the harsh and prying light of the world. Still tossing and turning at midnight, he thought he heard voices in the thickly tangled woods. When he looked out from the little window in his bedroom, he was sure something sinister was looking back at him. Sets of eyeballs seemed to blink in the blackness but he couldn\u2019t be sure if they were real or just imagined. Giotto hoped he was being paranoid, but he wasn\u2019t, unless paranoia is the keenest form of perception, for he was right that something sinister was lurking in the night, hunting him.<\/p>\n
The vigilantes were as patient as Job, and waited twelve years before finishing the job. No one would ever know who they were but the police suspected they were locals, for outsiders had no way of knowing where Giotto\u2019s trailer was in the dark woods. Giotto was laying sleeplessly in his bed when the first Molotov cocktail crashed through his bedroom window. His blankets caught fire but he was able to kick them off him and scurry toward the front door. When he reached it, he found it wouldn\u2019t open because it was blocked by an outside obstruction, and another Molotov cocktail crashed through the living room window, slid across the table, and set the sofa aflame.<\/p>\n
With no means of escape but the shattered window in the living room, Giotto leaped up and tried to pull himself out of it, slicing his chest and back on the shards of glass that were embedded in the frame like the teeth in the jaws of a shark. When he was stuck half-in and half-out of the small window, two vigilantes in black ski masks, one with a bat and the other an ax, viciously attacked, killing Giotto by bashing and slashing him dozens of times on his head and back.<\/p>\n
When the police informed Carlo of his brother\u2019s grisly death a few hours later\u2014his charred body had been discovered by the firefighters\u2014he said a prayer for Giotto\u2019s soul and called for Fr. Francis to come over and give him comfort. \u201cPerhaps in the privacy of his own heart he repented to God and was forgiven,\u201d the priest said gently placing his hand on Carlo\u2019s shoulder, \u201cbut if he didn\u2019t repent, the pain he endured tonight will be but the beginning of his torments.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve prayed for him every day these many years, Father,\u201d Carlo said. \u201cI prayed for the salvation of his soul but I honestly don\u2019t know if he wanted it to be saved. He was so cold to faith. He once said to me that it would\u2019ve been better if the Earth was like the moon, just a cold dead stone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDeath and nothingness are always desired by evildoers, Carlo,\u201d Fr. Francis said, \u201cfor if the world and everything in it is destined for nothingness, there will be no punishment. Giotto all but admitted to me that he killed his family. The Devil\u2019s rage burned in his soul, Carlo, and if he was too proud to repent, the Devil\u2019s rage will always burn it.\u201d<\/p>\n
The vigilantes may as well have been ghosts, since they left no sign whatsoever of who they were, and everything at the crime scene was burned. Even the boots they wore had no distinguishing patterns on the soles, and other than the size 10 footprints\u2014the most common size among men\u2014there was no evidence for the police to go on. The decent and upright townsfolk of Hurlock wouldn\u2019t condone lawlessness, of course, but there was no appetite at all among them to bring the vigilantes to justice. The murderous hermit living in the dark woods had cast a sinister pall over the town, and when he was gone it was as though an oppressive force had lifted off their collective shoulders.<\/p>\n
As the months passed and the grim memory of Giotto\u2019s existence faded, even Carlo, relieved of the burden of supporting his brother the murderer, found his way back into the town\u2019s good graces. Fr. Francis reminded the townsfolk that a man is only responsible for his own actions, and can\u2019t be made to carry the weight of his brother\u2019s sins. \u201cCarlo prayed every day for his brother\u2019s soul,\u201d the priest told the townsfolk. \u201cHe fed and sheltered him for decades in the hope he\u2019d repent, but Giotto was too proud and stubborn to ask God to forgive him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Carlo was always too fearful to admit his affair with Angela to Giotto, and they never broached the topic in conversation, but Carlo strongly suspected that his brother knew about it, and that it had been the catalyst for the atrocities he\u2019d committed. His betrayal of his brother, Carlo was sure, had ignited a rage in Giotto\u2019s heart that led him to murder. When he thought of Angela, he was ashamed of himself and his sinfulness, and wished Giotto would\u2019ve killed him instead of her and the kids.<\/p>\n
As the years went by and the life and crimes of Giotto Sabatino passed into legend, Carlo slowly began to find peace. His many children had many children of their own and it seemed clear that God was blessing him. He felt in his heart that his prayers had been answered, his repentance accepted, and his sins forgiven. After all, his sin was concupiscence, not murdering children, and his brother\u2014unrepentant to the last\u2014would have to pay the price for what he\u2019d done to the kids, not him, he had nothing to do with that.<\/p>\n
A man can understand how a woman can drive a man to madness, but murdering little children is simply beyond all understanding. Carlo had no doubt that Giotto had been damned to Hell, and he prayed every day to escape the same fate. Fr. Francis was right, Carlo told himself, just because God is forgiving doesn\u2019t mean that God forgives everything. To be forgiven, one must ask for it, one must repent, and since Giotto never repented, he deserved God\u2019s righteous punishment.<\/p>\n
A little less than four years after Giotto\u2019s death, on a bright, sunny day in July 2018, a diligent scientist from the Maryland Department of the Environment made an amazing discovery that would exonerate Giotto posthumously. While she was using a drone to map the eutrophication of Marshyhope Creek, photographing and measuring the shades of green and brown in the water, she thought she saw an anomaly, a large, dark shadow, in the middle of the waterway. Zooming in on the great shadow with the drone\u2019s camera, the eagle-eyed ecologist discerned tiny pinpricks of white, and realized they were the numbers and letters of an old Delaware license plate.<\/p>\n
When the police arrived and lifted the midnight blue 1980 Ford Bronco out of the creek, they found only bones and scraps of clothes on the victims. The injuries to Angela\u2019s teeth and cheekbones demonstrably showed that she\u2019d been knocked out on impact, and the two small children, not strong enough to open the doors under water, drowned in the backseats they were strapped in when the water surged into the slightly opened windows.<\/p>\n
There was disbelief and confusion when news of the discovery spread around Hurlock and the surrounding towns. \u201cPerhaps Giotto had driven Angela and the kids into the creek after killing them,\u201d Fr. Francis opined when he and Carlo discussed the matter, and Carlo desperately wanted to believe him, but after further investigation the authorities found that the front tire had blown out and Angela probably lost control of the Bronco in an instant. The truck had taken so long to be found because it landed nose down in a soft spot in the sediment with a sinkhole under it. Most of the vehicle was submerged under silt and only the rear bumper stuck out unseen beneath the murky water.<\/p>\n
Angela must\u2019ve been in a great hurry to get to her mother\u2019s place in Hurlock that day because she was driving at a pretty good clip across the Harrison Ferry Bridge when the front driver-side wheel blew out and she lost control of the top-heavy Bronco. Elevated on lifted wheels, the vehicle easily rolled over the foot-and-a-half high guardrail and plunged perfectly into the sinkhole in the middle of the creek where for thirty-five years it disappeared from the world. There was really no denying what happened, Carlo realized, and how wrong he and Fr. Francis and everyone in the town had always been. It was as clear as could be, Angela and the children had died in an accident. They hadn\u2019t been murdered. His brother had always been innocent, and he and Fr. Francis and everyone in the town, especially the vigilantes, had always been as guilty as sin.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The story of a man destined to be damned.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":15827,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15615","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","writer-conor-obrian-barnes"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15615","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15615"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15615\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15828,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15615\/revisions\/15828"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/15827"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15615"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15615"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15615"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}