survive without verification.
And I spent years believing leaving had made me disloyal, when in truth it taught me how to come back ready.
Some people will always ask whether I was too hard on them.
Whether public ruin was necessary.
Whether family matters should stay private.
I only ever think of one image when I hear that.
My injured father on the marble floor, reaching for a cup he was too weak to lift, while the woman beside him smiled.
After that, the real question was never whether forgiveness was deserved.
It was how anyone could have mistaken silence for mercy in the first place.
Page 6 of 7
