AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As expected in a high-security prison, there are many guards along the way, each one vigilant and armed. Once I’m cleared by security and granted entry, I’m escorted to a booth in one of the visitation rooms. I sit in the uncomfortable plastic chair, repeatedly twisting the ring on my finger as I wait for my father to arrive.
After what feels like forever, my father finally walks through the door. He looks older, with a thinner face and streaks of gray in his dark hair. Sitting across from me, separated by a glass pane, he picks up the phone. Though he looks exhausted, his eyes—the same ones I inherited—sparkle when he sees me.
I bring the handset to my ear. “Hey,” I say, trying not to let my voice shake.
“Hey, little Penguin.” His voice is rough and worn, but it’s still the voice I know and love. “It’s good to see you.”
Tears prick at the back of my eyes, but I blink them away. “It’s good to see you too, Dad,” I say, exchanging smiles with him for the first time in years. “I missed you … I’m sorry for not visiting you sooner.”
He leans closer to the glass, and I catch sight of his thinning arm. The baggy jumpsuit just makes it even more obvious that he’s lost weight. “You don’t have to apologize for that,” he says. “I imagine things haven’t been easy for you since then. And I wouldn’t blame you for holding a grudge after everything I’ve done.”
I stare at him, struggling to reconcile the man before me with the monster who took so many lives. But he’s my father, the person I looked up to the most. I don’t think I can ever truly hate him, no matter how much pain his actions inadvertently caused me. “No grudges. I just want you to know that I still love you. Nothing can change that.”
“I love you too, Penguin.” He smiles, pressing a hand to the glass, and I do the same. “Thank you for coming to visit me today,” he starts, his expression turning serious, “but something tells me you’re not here just to exchange pleasantries.”
Perceptive as usual. He’s always been eerily skilled at reading people. “No,” I admit, knowing that lying to him is pointless. “I came here to ask you some questions about the past—questions that nobody else can answer.”
He nods slowly, likely already knowing what I’m about to ask. “What do you want to know?”
I remember Damon’s words in the woods—about the night I lost control and almost killed Richard. About how my father took the fall for me and was found out. That he buried the bodies of his victims practically right in our backyard. Anticipatory dread sends my heart into a violent drumbeat against my ribcage, and I swallow hard.
Dad looks at me, his brow creased in concern. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay,” I say, forcing a brittle smile as I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. “I just …” I take a deep breath before continuing. “What actually happened that night? My memory’s hazy.”
He sighs, his gaze drifting up toward the camera tucked in the upper corner of the room. Knowing that our conversation is probably being monitored, he speaks quietly but resolutely.
“I did what I had to do to protect you. When I came to the house that evening to pick you up for the weekend, I found you there with that prick, pale and shaken. I knew something had gone terribly wrong.” He leans closer, lacing his fingers together atop the stark white table. “So I took care of things, for your sake. I wanted to keep you safe, and that’s what I did—even if it meant sacrificing my freedom.”
“But Dad?—”
“It was the right thing to do. And I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant protecting my little girl.” His eyes soften. “That’s what good fathers do.”
I’m overwhelmed, his words smashing into me like a thousand fists, a sob wrenching from my throat. His face crumples at the sight of my tears, and he does his best to give me a reassuring smile in place of his trademark hugs—ones I wish I desperately could have right about now. “Thank you, Dad,” I say thickly. “For everything.”
He nods, his eyes shining with unshed tears of his own. “No need to thank me, little Penguin. Just know that I love you and would do anything for you, okay?”
I nod back, my lip quivering as a fresh wave of grief washes over me. I realize that our time is running out, and the thought of this being the last time I’ll ever be able to talk to my father before he’s executed hits me like a freight train. “Did Mom know?” I ask, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them.
He closes his eyes, exhaling slowly before he speaks. “I tried to hide it, but she probably figured it out.”
I had my suspicions that Patricia knew and did nothing. But am I any better? I suppose I truly am my mother’s daughter, being with a murderer. It’d be hypocritical to judge. “I need to know why,” I say. “Why did you kill all those people?”
He looks at me, his expression shifting, his face an apathetic mask. “They deserved it,” he replies coldly, the Lakestone Reaper himself now on full display before me. “There are bad, bad people out there—bad people that need to be punished. If the justice system fails, then it’s up to people like me to make things right. Even the scales.”
I swallow, meeting his gaze. “And do you regret it?”
“I’m proud of my work and what I’ve done,” he says, as if the answer is obvious. “If I could do it again, I would. Over and over, as many times as it takes. In every lifetime. The world is broken. And this”—he gestures around him—“is the price of justice. I paid it willingly. I have no regrets.”
His convictions evoke a strange mix of horror and admiration in me, and I’m unsure of what to think. He killed people, but he truly believed he was doing the right thing. What am I supposed to make of that?
Though what he says, in some fucked up way, makes sense.
An extended silence stretches between us until I finally find my voice. “Will I turn out like you?” I ask softly.
“You’re my tough girl. Always have been.” He manages a faint smile, once again looking more like the father who woke me up on my birthday, surprising me with breakfast in bed and presents. “You’ll be fine. I know you will.”
A prison worker opens the door—and I know our time together is about to end. My father glances at the attendant and gives me a nod. I brush away the tears caught in my lashes and nod silently back.
