(Rigel)
The anger inside me keeps bubbling. I am not enraged that my father didn't find me but more like he didn't try harder. Now it feels easier to stay mad at him.
As easy as it is to stay by my mother and Amaia's side, it's difficult for me to converse with others—especially my father.
He requests that I accompany him outside the library and tries to coax me into conversation.
"Rigel, I know I don't understand the extent of it," he begins.
"No, you don't. Don't even try," I sharply say, leaning against the wall and folding my arms over my chest. It aches, my heart, my chest.
He nods with pain rippling on his face.
"But you can talk to me about it. I will always listen." My father places his hand on my shoulder.
"I am not sure how that will change the outcome of what happened. Do you even know what happened?" I shake his hand away.
"I don't. Share with me Rigel, share your burdens. You don't have to carry them alone or drown in the darkness."
