my father.
Richard Halston looked nothing like the confident man from the ballroom. His bow tie was undone. His usual charm was gone. He looked older, almost defeated.
“Mara,” he said softly. “Please.”
That word hurt.
Please.
Not “I’m sorry.”
Not “I should have protected you.”
Not “You are my daughter, and I failed you.”
Only please.
I closed my eyes and remembered continue reading …