After my father died, that’s all people remembered from that day. I love my dad, more than anything. I shouldn’t be thinking about that girl. But I do, every day. I think about her because if that man hadn’t hurt her or if I’d just ignored it like everyone else, then my father would still be alive. And I feel so guilty for thinking that, and guilty for sending him after her, and guilty for not being able to help either of them. I’ll never know how badly she was hurt, or if she… I don’t want to think about it anymore, but I can’t get that day out of my mind.
