Diane
Morning came, and I was nervous and angry. I didn't know what I would say when I saw my father. I doubted I was ready for the confrontation, but I knew it was inevitable. As I suspected, my clothes weren't fresh, but I had no choice now. I slipped into an oversized t-shirt and tight shorts, my go-to casual outfit, before being imprisoned.
I left my room and headed to the dining room for breakfast. The moment my father's eyes locked with mine, time seemed to stand still. All the anger and pain I had been carrying dissipated in that instant.
He had aged far more than I thought he would, and the oxygen tube under his nose spoke volumes.
"Papa," I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks. Brian sat there, and I turned to him, my voice trembling with betrayal. "You knew?"
"He didn'
