“Riva.”Her father's voice came through the wall again.“It's time you came home.”Riva couldn't move.She had spent eleven years imagining this moment.In some versions, her father appeared at the front door.In others, she found him sick and broken in some distant hospital.Sometimes she imagined him walking toward her with tears in his eyes.Sometimes she imagined herself screaming at him.Asking why he had abandoned them.Why he had let her mother die believing she was alone.Why he had allowed Riva to grow up believing she had lost both parents in the same year.She had never imagined this.A voice behind a wall.A hidden room filled with photographs of her.Ares stood beside her, weapon raised.“Who are you?”The voice laughed softly.“You know exactly who I am.”Riva's lips trembled.“Dad?”Silence.Then—“Yes.”Her knees almost gave way.Ares caught her elbow.She barely noticed.“Open the door.”Her father's voice became quieter.“No.”Riva stared at the wall.“Why?”“Because
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