Watching stars fall over our heads

Jude

I remembered I had fists today
I wash my hands and they are red like the sunsets of paradise

Jude doesn't know why his parents taking ownership of all they've done is so surprising. Harper had said much the same in his letter. Perhaps it's because Jude has always heaped the blame onto himself instead of them, adamant they were perfect parents, just struggling beneath the weight of unfair circumstances. Maybe he needs to give himself that kind of grace, but it feels wrong, like trying to pull on a too-small coat.

Leaning his cheek into her palm, Jude slowly raises his eyes to hers. Want is what he desires to hear, but the word need coming directly after makes him quail, the weight of responsibility sinking in around his collarbone like a chain; what if you mess this up too, Jude?

"What do you need? What can I do?" He quickly considers his own state of affairs; he can ask Noe to watch Winifred via letter, that will be easy enough. He doesn't have many more ties than that. "I can stay for the season? Then we'll have a few weeks together." He isn't sure the Grounds will be as healing for him as it has been for his mother, or maybe he's just scared that if he stays forever he'll never learn to stop relying on her.

Am I a murderer?
Or did I just kill all my thoughts in self-defense?