11
THE FALL OF ROBERT EARLE
I completed my decathlon during the following week, all the events well attended. The fact that everyone came of their own free will did nothing to endear me to the school, or anyone in it. They hadn’t come to wish me well, and their attendance, and in such numbers, only confirmed my darkest suspicions about the human race.
As I crawled across that muddy finishing line at the end of my final event, I felt like a soldier in the muddy trenches of the First World War. One of the lucky ones escaping across the line to freedom.
There was a curious look on Sirgiman’s face as I crossed that line. Maybe it was time for him to give up, let go, and move on. Could I live with that? Could I deny the urge for revenge and get on with my life?
I resolved to keep my copybo
