𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒

𝐅 𝐎 𝐔 𝐑 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐍

"𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃." he says.

The world tilted on its axis, and for a moment, I was suspended in disbelief. My father, the man who always seemed untouchable, was dead? I had never thought I'd hear those words. I half-expected him to kill me before I could ever witness his demise.

"Oh," I managed to choke out, my voice strangely hollow, as if I were hearing someone else.

"I don't know how to say this," Sam continued, her gaze steady but laced with sympathy. "Your father's death wasn't natural. He was murdered."

Murdered. The word hung in the air, heavy and electric, as it bounced around in my mind like a pinball.

"Murdered?" I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper, grappling with the shock of it all.

"Yeah," she replied, a hint of sympathy in her tone.

"Are you sure it's him?" I chuckled, trying to defuse the tension. It felt absurd; there was no way my father was really dead.

"Bells, he's been deceased for two days. He was found in your home."

The weight of those words landed hard.

Fuck.

For years, I had secretly wished for this day, conjuring fantasies of his downfall. Yet, facing the reality of it now, I felt an unexpected rush of conflicting emotions. Shouldn't I feel triumphant? Part of me wanted to celebrate, but another part whispered doubts.

Guilt tugged at me, but I pushed it aside. I had long wanted to break free from his grasp, to be liberated from the chains he had forged. And now, he was gone.

Samantha placed a hand on my shoulder, trying to offer comfort, but it felt more like an intrusion. I could sense everyone's sympathetic stares, and I didn't want their pity. I was done being a victim.

I cleared my throat, shaking off the weight of their gazes. I had no one left but myself, and that realization sparked something within me.

With a newfound resolve, I pushed past the concerned faces in the room. I heard someone call my name, but I ignored it. I grabbed my coat, movements brisk and decisive, and stepped out of the house.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The noise of the world faded as I walked deeper into the woods. The trees closed in around me, their leaves rustling in the breeze, and the path beneath my feet was soft with pine needles. I needed this escape, this moment away from everything, to sort out the mess of feelings swirling inside me.

I reached a small clearing and sat on an old tree stump.

My father was gone.

Should I be sad or relieved? Grief or freedom? The questions twisted in my mind, each one adding to the knot in my chest.