I waited at the hospital for the nurse to tell me I could go inside. Alex was grabbing my hand for support and squeezing it from time to time when he felt that my anxiety skyrocketed. They had a small waiting room because my father was now in one of the rooms for uncomplicated patients. I tried to fidget with my fingers, but Alex didn't let go of my hand.
"Why are you so nervous?" Winter asked me.
To be honest, I didn't even know myself. I was afraid. I didn't want to realize that my father was a monster. I imagined letting my daughter suffer for my benefit, and I can't. I would rather die or kill someone to avoid any harm to my daughter. Giving her like she was some object was something that I couldn't process in my mind.
"I don't want to learn a hard truth, that is all," I answered
