My fingers dug so deeply into my palms that they hurt but I barely registered the pain.
I only focused on the man in front of me.
Richard Snow.
My father?
For years, I had accepted that whoever my father was, he didn't want me. That was the only explanation that made sense.
Because no father who wanted his daughter would stay away for decades.
Yet here he was, standing in my mother's living room as though he had the right to be here.
My eyes burned from all the crying I had done earlier and now I was furious.
Richard nodded slightly in understanding.
"I know this is difficult."
I laughed weakly. "Difficult?"
I shook my head. "You walk into my life after all these years and tell me you're my father, and that's the word you chose?"
He looked genuinely pained and then he gav
