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CHAPTER | THIRTY

I yawned, my eyes watering. I blinked rapidly, clearing my vision before another yawn erupted. I shook my head and flipped through my mama's photo albums on the living room floor

The one good thing she did while she drank besides cursing everyone out was put together photo albums. She didn't do anything fancy or creative but on the back of each picture, she wrote drunk comments and the names of the people in the picture.

I got to the end of a photo album when one lone picture was left unwritten and left out. It was a photograph of me and my step-papa. I smiled at our goofy grins. My step-papa's eyes were shining, the sunset reflecting in his eyes and making his blue eyes brighten more. His nicely shaved face made him appear younger.

"He was a good man." I answered Tristian's stare from behind.

I looked over my shoulder and Tristian pushed himself off the wall and sat on the floor next to me. He tilted his head to the side and stared at the old faded photograph.

I remembered that day. It was a chilly summer day but we welcomed it. The past couple of days were so hot and the little fan barely worked. We were in the backyard, lying on the overgrown grass as a breeze swept through. I closed my eyes as the breeze blew through under my shirt, almost like wiping away the sweat with gentle hands.

"What a lovely day..." My step-papa trailed off with a content sigh, his arms behind his head with his cap lying on his stomach.

I mimicked his movements and a pleasant shiver went through me as the breeze cooled down my sweaty armpits. From here, I could smell the cooking of meat. My step-papa smelled it too and sat up on his elbows.

"Wanna crash a barbecue?" He asked, wagging his eyebrows.

My stomach growled and I answered with a nod. We put on our flip flops and went across the street to where our neighbor was hosting a party. My step-papa somehow managed to charm his way in and had one of the best meal we had all that summer. The neighbor went around with his camera and took a picture of me and my step-papa. We were sitting on the grass, grinning at the camera with our plates stacked with food.

"Where was your mother?" Tristian asked. I took the photo from him.

"She was there," I answered, my head nudging towards the big red chair, "She was too drunk to go anywhere." Tristian stayed quiet as I put the photo back and tucked the album back on the shelf and reached for another one.

"I'm sorry." He finally said.

I chuckled. "Don't be. In all honesty, I'm glad she's in a better place. She was gone before I was even born."

"What do you mean?" He asked, crisscrossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees.

"My real papa died months before I was born. My mama told me he was the one for her, y'know? And I guess that led her to go spiraling out of control and took upon drinking after I was born. She met my step-papa at a bar and he fell in love with her, but she never felt that way for him."

"She never loved him? So he only came to visit you?"

"No, he stayed with my mama I asked him why; why stay with someone who doesn't love you. He said he stayed because he wanted to and needed to. According to him, I got attached to him when mama first introduced me to him," I paused, my eyes landing on a photo of my step-papa posing in front of his new car, "Even if his blood isn't in me, I know he's my real papa... I never cried so much when I heard of his death. Not even when my mama passed away. I just wished he lived long enough to meet Drakon."

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