“Are you ready?” Enzo asks me, as I roll up my sleeves on the buttoned-down shirt I decided to wear.
I wanted something that made me feel powerful, as an equal to my father and Enzo, but I’m not sure it mattered what I wear. I have huge butterflies bouncing around in my stomach.
How can I ever be ready to face a father who sold me?
I nod when I finish rolling my sleeves up, revealing enough of my scars, but not too much.
I want answers.
I want an apology.
I don’t want to show him the pain I experienced. He doesn’t deserve my pain.
Enzo holds out his hand instead of taking mine like he usually does. He’s going to let be the one in control today. If I don’t want Enzo with me, all I would have to do is ask him to leave. He’ll be right by my side if I want him to, or he’ll remain
