“You should be here,” I whispered to Dad.
Rain poured down around me, drenching my bike parked on the side of the road. I shifted from foot to foot, coating my boots in a layer of thick mud, and fell to my knees in the middle of the cemetery. My fingers brushed against his gravestone.
“It’s not fair.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, the rain hiding the f*****g tears that threatened to spill down my cheeks. Dad would hate that I wanted to cry for him. When he had been alive, I’d wished that I could spend more time with him, but … he had his other family, too. I used to hate his kid, but … she was just like me now.
Broken.
My phone buzzed in my soaked jeans pocket.
João: You coming?
João: You coming?After drawing my fingers against the words etched in Dad’s gravestone, I pulled out a flask
