“What does that mean, Ev? You want me to tell you that my father’s a piece of shit and my mother isn’t much better? Does that make you feel better? Because it sure as shit doesn’t make me feel better. Living. Fighting fires. Moving forward. That’s what I do.” I moved back to my chair and dropped to sit. It felt good to get it off my chest. “I get that, but you’ll never escape it, Niko. Burying yourself in work is not dealing with it. Facing it. Feeling it. Grieving. Crying. Sharing. It’s a process. But I will tell you this.
