MIRABEL REDFORD
He isn’t in my mind. I promise. Dad is.
Well, that is what I want.
I want to forget about him that it hurts so much.
The problem is, when I push to forget him, my mind plays its own game, and he becomes the center of my day and night. The energy I use to try to forget him is converted to me thinking about him.
Ever since dad died, ever since Mom didn’t listen to what happened that night, the fact that I didn’t murder dad, because let us face it, it was impossible. First, he was dad. Secondly, I was fifteen. Thirdly, I couldn’t even save myself at that age.
Fuck, I was wolfless and frail.
Yeah. Ever since I promised myself to make the person who killed dad pay.
However, not once did I think it would be no one other than my mate.
I want it to be a lie. I want him to
