CHAPTER 66

  I shouldn’t feel bad about what I did to my father, but why I am crying on my way back home? It was midnight and it was cold, so I could feel the tears warming up my face. I never longed for a father, even before. My past Mom and Dad were there. I never feel any complications in our relationship. I felt full. I felt loved.

  But when I saw him when he touch him. I felt a pang inside my chest. This man is my father. And this man killed the ones I loved. It wasn’t because I want us to be a complete family. We can’t be like that.

  My heart aches because the truth is my father is a killer. And I have to live with that truth until the day that I die. It wasn’t a history to tell. It’s a carved mark on my identity.