“Would it have made a difference?” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “That doesn’t make me any less of a criminal.” “It would have made you less of a murderer,” he says harshly. “Why did you hide this from me?” “Because…,” I stammer. “Because I can barely stand to look at myself! Don’t you understand?” Tears sting my eyes, but I push on. “He ruined me. Marred me. For the rest of my life, I will look at this scar and think of the man I hated most. The man who had my father killed. The man who mercilessly killed Ordinaries like me. The man who tried to murder me himself.” I shake my head,
...more
shit this is hurting ME
