“They made the choice for me.”

“And who did you choose?”

I kissed her forehead. “The only family I never should have doubted.”

Months later, a letter came from the prison where my father was held. He claimed everything had been a harsh lesson to teach me to protect my assets. He didn’t apologize to Ashley or ask about Samuel — he asked whether I’d wire money for a better appeal lawyer.

I tore it up. My mother mailed old childhood photos; Stephanie wrote bitter letters saying I’d ruined her life. Not one of them was sorry for the damp room, the withheld meals, or the threats against my child.

Some people never regret the harm they do — only losing control of the people they did it to.