Afon takes all that in with a straight face. “Does it feel good?” he asks. “Being right?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to be right. I want her out. And I want them dead.”
That earns me a withering scowl. “Oh, yeah?” he asks sarcastically. “Do you? Here’s a question for you, nephew: Who the f**k is they? Do you know where they are? Do you know what they look like? Do you even know if they have a name?”
When he sees I’ve been silenced, he nods with grim satisfaction. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Bozhe moy, you’re just like your father sometimes. All action, no forethought.”
Maybe I’m like my father, maybe not. I wasn’t yet a man when I lost him, so there’s no telling for certain what his impact on me would’ve been if he’d survived. All I know is that there’s a fire burning me up insid
