“Gods.” Father sighed, dragging a palm over his jaw. “I’m sorry, Dess.” My entire body jolted. When was the last time he’d called me Dess? It had been years. And I’d never heard him apologize. The gentleness in his eyes was so foreign that my heart clenched. He hadn’t looked at me like that in, well…a long, long time. Since I was a child. Since I’d wake in the middle of the night, screaming from a nightmare, and Father would hold me until sunrise. “I’m sorry that you must do this.” “I can’t, Father. Please don’t make me.” He brushed his knuckles across my cheek. “You must.” “I don’t want to
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