He was coming apart from
the inside out.
With every last ounce of strength he willed himself to stop
shaking, to compose himself as best he could. He lifted his chin.
"Wallaby is my life," he said, his voice high and distraught.
"But as you've all determined for me, that doesn't matter
anymore."
Matthew came closer. "It doesn't have to end like this," he said.
"I want you to stay with me. I want you to make our future while
I manage the present." He reached out to Peter.
"Don't you come near me!" Peter screamed, flinging his hands into
the air. Several of the people in the room jumped in their seats,
groaning in agony at what they were being forced to witness.
Their eyes linked for the last time. "You've stolen my life,
Matthew." He faced the people seated at he table. But he had
nothing more to say. He turned and charged for the door.
Martin Cohn leapt from his chair and started after him.
"Leave him," Hank ordered, fixing his eyes sharply on Matthew.
The door slowly and silently swung inward, sealing the new team
together inside the room for the first time without Peter Jones.
Matthew couldn't see Hank's gaze. He was facing the sunlit
window, staring down at his clenched fists. He willed them to
relax. And as he watched them uncurl, he felt his guilt slip
away. And in its place he grasped a new feeling.
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