The Leaves in Winter by M. C. Miller Page B

prove a negative than give them positive evidence by trying to cover it up.”
    “I can’t take that chance. Our work is too important.”
    “You can’t afford to be this obvious. Where does it stop?”
    Leah was the only person in the world who dared talk back to Eugene . For her love and his sanity, he allowed it. With his focus now on diffusing the situation, he held back the impulse to argue. There was still a family dinner party to return to and a daughter and son-in-law downstairs who shouldn’t guess anything was wrong.
    “Don’t worry. All we need is a little more time.”
    His attempt to calm Leah only shifted her mood from irritated to sullen.
    “It wouldn’t take much to ruin everything we’ve worked for.”
    “Soon, none of this will matter. Remember, we’re building a sustainable future where once there was none. This isn’t just about us; there’s a whole world at stake.”
    Leah said nothing at the one time Eugene thought she was primed to do so. He turned to read cues from her body language. “This isn’t like you. Why worry when you know I have the resources to do what’s necessary?”
    Exasperation drained from Leah’s voice. In its place was something sour and dreadful. “The real horror is that Riya was just the first of so many more to come.”
    Leah’s confession was a truth too raw to be stated so frankly. What it implied was not something Eugene liked being reminded of despite his commitment to the plan. For what it made him feel, he resented Leah’s sudden sense of revulsion. A compassionate but exaggerated conscience should never overrule a clear, altruistic vision of what needed to be done. In reflex, his resentment turned flippant.
    “Every remodeling project starts with demolition.”
    The reference was distasteful. “Don’t talk like that. You make it sound so wooden and impersonal.”
    “We’ve gone over this a thousand times.”
    “There’s sanctity to sacrifice. That’s what it comes down to. The sacrifice of many for the greater good. For our children. I hate to hear you be so debased about it.”
    “If there was another way…if the world had time…”
    “The necessity wouldn’t be so clear. I know. You’ve told me.”
    “Why go into this again? We both agreed someone must take action – someone with the power and means to do something on the scale required.”
    “It’s not about that. I agree something needs to be done. I have issues with how you’re going about it. We’re going to have to live a long time with the legacy of how this was done. I want that legacy to be a blessing, not a burden.”
    Eugene was suddenly incensed. His voice fell to a whisper. His anger was not directed at Leah, but everyone he had witnessed giving little but lip service to the crisis enveloping the planet. “Same old story. Everyone wants to be at the feast – but no one wants to get their hands dirty killing the beast!”
    For the sake of their evening together, Leah thought better of snapping back.
    Eugene stepped around his desk in a huff and sat down. “After a lifetime of trying everything else, I see no other way. No one else is stepping up. I love the fact you have sensibilities. But to get through this, you need to love the fact that I don’t. How else is anything going to get done?”
    Eugene didn’t expect an answer but he hoped for one.
    Instead, there was a knock at the door. “Grandpa?”
    The child’s voice belonged to Jayden, their nine-year-old grandson.
    Leah retreated to the door and opened it. “Here he is.” She braved a smile in the presence of innocence.
    The boy idolized his grandfather for the way he doted over him. Jayden shuffled into the room, enthused to be the center of attention. “I’ve got the billiards table all set up. Are we still going to play?”
    Leah headed out the door with an eye on Eugene . “See you downstairs.”
    Seated behind his desk, Eugene nodded and watched the boy approach.
    “Mom said not to bother you but I