“Do you resent what I did?” I killed her father right in front of her. He was trying to hurt her, but still . . . I can only imagine what she must be feeling. Her eyes are as wet and gleaming as the ice. She fights to hold back the tears, to keep control of herself. “I don’t resent you,” she says. “I feel . . . I feel like I started to lose my father the day I stepped foot on that ship. I lost the part of him that never existed in the first place. But still . . . even then, once I started to realize . . .” Her cheeks are burning red and her shoulders heave as she tries to hold back the hurt
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