Ariana's POVIt felt like I was walking toward my own execution. My heart thumped frantically against my ribs, making me lightheaded. I kept telling myself to be brave, but with every step I took toward the shadows of that rusted street lamp, the air seemed to get thinner.He’s not going to hurt me, I tried to convince myself. Not in the middle of a street in Astoria. But I knew my father. I knew the man who had raised me, and I knew that logic didn't always apply to him when he was on a rave. The closer I got, the more my throat closed up, but I steeled my resolve. I wouldn't let him see me tremble. Not this time.I stopped several feet away at a safe distance, though it didn't feel safe enough. We stood there, the orange glow of the street light casting faint distorted shadows on the pavement between us. It was still daytime but the sun would go down soon. "Dad," I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion.He looked at me, his eyes hooded and dark. A slow, mocking smile spread acr
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