Berry flinched at the loud *click* of the tape player’s stop button. She shifted in the ropes keeping her tied to a chair, then looked up at Sunset, chuckling darkly.
Sunset tensed. “Is something funny?”
“Yeah, the irony of Troubleshoes calling you an angel just before you killed him.”
No answer came from Sunset. Berry shook her head. “It's just like with Blueblood all over again: you can't bear the guilt of how badly you failed the whole world, much less the people around you. You think that making yourself listen to the reasons why Troubleshoes wouldn't stop coming after the fragments is going to wash away the blood you spilled to keep them secret.”
Sunset inhaled sharply. “He wouldn't have come here at all if you hadn't dug them up and started selling them! And for what, Berry? More booze? Better booze? A bigger wet-bar? Was that worth risking all of Canterlot for?!”
“Why don’t you ask Cheerilee about risk,” Berry spat. “Or Ditzy, for that matter! You risked every person in this town when you hired that smooth-talking scumbag to do your dirty work with Cinch. And after that you waited way too long to do what needed to be done about him.”
A long silence fell. Sunset looked away. “I… I know, Berry. I’ve failed this town in more ways than I can keep track of. But somebody has to keep fighting for these people. And none of us really know what Cinch was up to with those fragments of Twilight’s device. I mean, this is the person who helped put Twilight up to what she did back at the games—the woman who helped instigate the destruction of our world! And you decided it was okay to just put that stuff back out there for anyone to find and use?”
Berry leaned forward in her bonds. “I’ve got a sister to mourn, and a habit to feed. I don’t have to answer to you about those.”
Sunset shook her head. “I’m sorry for your pain, but I will not apologize for doing what I think is best for Canterlot. And I will continue to do what I must.”
“And does that mean offing me too?”
They met eyes. Sunset took a deep breath. “I’ve spent the last day scouring the culvert, going through your things, dealing with Troubleshoes, and even talking to Ditzy… but the only other fragments that I found were still buried where we left them, with prince charming. And there are only half as many now as we started with, Berry. So I’ve got one question, and I hope you’ll tell the truth: did you hide any others, or was everything that’s missing now, sold?”
Berry’s jaw clenched. “…Yes. I sold them,” she muttered.
“All right, then. I suppose that getting them back is out of the question.” Sunset shook her head. “I guess we’re done here.” Sunset reached into a pocket and produced a six-inch folding knife. She opened it, and Berry’s breath quickened as Sunset moved closer, leading with the blade.
“I’ve always hated you,” Berry whispered, looking away.
Sunset hesitated, then reached down with the knife and sawed through the top rope holding Berry in place. That done, she put the knife back in her pocket.
“I don't hate you, Berry. But if you're hurting so much on the inside that you end up doing crazy things, then I need you to stop burying that pain so deep that no one else can see it or help you with it. If you can do that, then as far as I'm concerned, you've got a place here.” She turned and started heading for the door. “If not, you’ll have to find peace somewhere else.”
Berry wriggled against her loosening bonds. “Wait! Sunset, where are you going?”
“To see something important,” Sunset called back.
Rays from the descending sun slanted through the shattered frame of Canterlot High’s central building. Sunset picked her way through the once bright and bustling main hall—now full of rubble—and out onto the ruined stairs. A figure sat waiting at the bottom of them, near the blasted remnants of the once-great statue of the school’s equine mascot, and with a shovel by his side. He turned his head as she approached, then reached up and tipped his hat to her.
“Evenin’, ma’am. I take it that you put things right with Miss Berry?”
Sunset shook her head. “I lost the right to tell her what to do when I let Blueblood come to town. I hope she'll come around, though; I’ll need everyone I can get if word ever does get back to Cinch. At least the new hole and the lead-lined box should keep her from finding the fragments themselves, if it comes to that.” She paused, frowning. “Thank you for digging that. I'm… still sorry that Berry jumped you down in the culvert. And that I had to give you the third degree.”
“Well, I reckon it ain't so bad, really. I’ll keep mum, like I promised; I don’t much trust Cinch herself anyway. And for what it’s worth, it feels good knowing that I would’ve found what’s left of Mr. Blueblood down there if it wasn’t for Miss Berry.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “And I reckon that I’m glad you were tailing Miss Ditzy and me, too.”
“I only wish I’d done that when Blueblood was still here,” Sunset said quietly. “Or maybe Berry’s right, and I—”
Troubleshoes stood up and cleared his throat. “Well ma’am, I hate to duck out in the middle of a good soul-searchin’, but speaking of Miss Ditzy… beggin’ your leave?”
“Go on,” Sunset said, smiling.
Troubleshoes set out across the open space between the wreckage of the school, and the town that had been born again from scrap and struggle. There, approaching from the town, was Ditzy, carrying her daughter in her arms. Sunset smiled as she watched both Ditzy’s and Troubleshoes’ pace quicken. Her smile deepened when at last they met, and Troubleshoes scooped both mother and daughter up into a giant hug.
Sunset watched long enough to see them turn and head back toward the city together. Then she gazed up toward the setting sun, squinting and shielding her eyes as she studied the patterns of red and gold light cast upon the sky, the desert, and the few small clouds.
“And that’s why my town’s still worth fighting for,” Sunset whispered to herself.