Redemption Was Never Mine
He wrote about the days we had endured hardship together at the farmers' market, every word trying to stir the love I had long since buried.
I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of the top-floor suite, looking down at the man kneeling below.
I felt nothing. If anything, I found his tactics laughable.
Shared hardship? Please.
My father arrived soon after hearing the news, animosity evident in his eyes. His voice was ice cold as he growled, "Drag him away. Finish him."
"Dad," I stopped him, shaking my head. "Death is mercy for someone like him."
I looked at Ethan's face, twisted with fear and rage. Then, I deliberately dragged each word out, saying, "Let him live. Living will hurt far m