How do you keep breathing when every truth feels like drowning?
I stood on the private balcony the next morning, the ocean wind whipping my hair as I clutched my mother’s diary against my chest. My small belly was more noticeable now under the thin white sundress Daddy loved seeing me in. I hadn’t slept much. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my mother’s handwriting.
“He is a monster…”
The sliding door opened behind me. Daddy stepped out, shirtless, wearing only black shorts. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, one hand resting possessively over my belly, the other gently holding my throat above the collar.
“You’re reading it again,” he said softly, lips brushing my ear.
“I can’t stop,” I whispered. “She knew, Daddy. She knew exactly what you wanted from me.”
He turned me aro
