Thane
This week has been particularly hard for me, emotionally and physically. After reading my mother’s diary, I got a better understanding of who the man who called himself my father truly is. It wasn't much, but it was enough for me to conclude that I need to look into him more; the man is hiding secrets more than the Sahara Desert.
Walking around the house, I got ready to have breakfast with Thomas. I had given him the journal to read at his own pace, and he told me he was done and that it was time to talk about the next steps. During the drive, I thought about what he was going to say and how I'm going to respond to him, the whole thought of having a conversation about this man's sickness.
I met Thomas in the diner's parking lot, the same one where his girl worked; hopefully, this
