From that day on, our lives fell into a strange routine.During the day, I ran myself ragged, taking care of Cyrus, cooking, cleaning, doing whatever needed to be done.Wendy shut herself in her room. She only came out for meals, ate in silence, then disappeared back behind the door.At night, after Cyrus was asleep, I would sit alone in the living room, smoking one cigarette after another.I devoted myself entirely to the family.I thought that if I gave enough, sacrificed enough, maybe someday I could finally atone for what I had done.However, I was wrong.In Wendy’s eyes, my attempts at redemption were nothing but a joke.She began tormenting me in increasingly cruel ways.Sometimes, she would storm out of her room in the middle of the night, knock the ashtray off the table and scream at me for daring to smoke.Other times, when I was not looking, she would dump Cyrus’s medication down the drain. Then she would stand there coldly and watch me tear the house apart looking
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