hould have had a glass of hangover soup waiting for him, as was our custom. B

ely flinched away. He sighed, assuming I

ooth. "I'll make it up to you. I'll buy y

ask, thinking of all the birthdays he'd

e a cage. "You've been working too hard on that new sc

but I let him guide me into bed, my express

ned out into a deep sleep, I

ents. I used to respect that. Now, I knew it was a vault for his secrets.

ingers trembled as I typed in the date

k click

. I started there. In a locked drawer, I found a small, l

s and candles. A perfect, happy family. In one photo, my parents were there, too. My mother was holding Leo, beaming, whi

p. The password was the same. His files were meticulously organize

first words. Scans of his birth certificate, listing

ing to my parents, Richard and Eleanor Donovan, to a shell corporation. The memo line on each one was

ry expensive gift, every hollow promise of family, was paid for with the same money they used

ie; it was a transaction. I was the price

hoto, every video, every bank statement. As the files transferre

for the last five years. Everything." I knew I had to confront th

A message from

noticed me lurking

the family photo I had just

t's beautiful. He said the landscape reminded him of the day we fi

I leaned against the desk, the flash drive clutched in my hand,

ned into something else.

to break. I was going to burn