With his face unobscured, I looked at him—truly looked at him. I looked at the tenderness with which he regarded me; the same affection that had motivated me to cling onto life after he left me for dead, only for me to be immured and deemed insane. I looked at his black eyes, ever shifting like a restless sea; the same eyes that had watched me kill my mother at his command. I looked at his dimpled smile; the same smile he had given me before he had me dragged across the desert, ripping me away from the only home I had ever known, just for his enjoyment. And I smiled.
