"When?" I asked, my voice breaking as tears began to form.
"Last year," Mom said softly, her eyes filled with regret. "I heard it from one of his friends. I didn’t tell you because of how he treated us. I’m so sorry for keeping it from you. I didn’t want to upset you."
Even though he had been far from a good father, he was still my father, the reason I was here. I couldn’t hold it against Mom for not telling me; she had done everything for me. She moved closer and grabbed my hand but I withdrew my hand. I saw the hurt in her eyes but I was hurting too.
"Please, let me be alone," I said, retreating to my room. I collapsed onto my bed, overwhelmed by a torrent of tears. Despite his flaws, he was still my father. My grief was interrupted when I heard the door open, it was the devil.
He ru
