I watched my father throw my clothes, my books, and the last photo of my mother into the fire like my life meant nothing. Then he looked at me and said, “This is what happens when you disobey me.”

to destroy, I pulled out my phone and called Nate.

My father laughed when he heard me.

“You leave this house,” he said, stepping close, “you don’t come back.”

That was the last time I saw him as someone I needed.

Six years later, I called him again.

“Check your mailbox,” I said.

Inside was a photo of me standing in front of his house.

The house I had just continue reading …