The word shocked me to my core.
“What?” I spluttered. “I murdered more than twelve men that night. How can you say good?”
“Those sons of bitches deserved it. Don’t you see? They were kidnapping and s*x trafficking children. You were eleven, Shay. That was self-defense if ever I heard it. And you saved all those other girls.”
I sat in his lap, too stunned to argue.
That night had been my greatest shame, my recurring nightmare, for fifteen years. I’d never shared the truth of my background with another soul, for the horror. But… good?
He must have seen the disagreement written on my face, because he let out a frustrated growl. “Shay, I know it was traumatic. And you’ve got the right to remember it however you want. But put the Shay of today on the outside of that situation. I know it’s
