My father is dead. What am I feeling? Relief seemed too simple a word, yet nothing else fit. All the pain and misery he put me through, all the sleepless nights filled with fear and dread—it felt like I could finally breathe again.
My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of adrenaline and the realization that it was over. The suffocating grip he had on my life had lifted. I felt like I was emerging from a dark tunnel into light for the first time.
I looked at his body, but I felt nothing. There's no grief handbook for moments like this. Is this feeling normal? How should I feel about someone who didn't care whether I lived or died, someone who wanted to use me for his selfish interests?
Cassian touched my shoulder gently. "We need to go."
I nodded, unable to form words. He helped me to
