C. 40; final

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She needed to listen to his side of the story

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She needed to listen to his side of the story. "I should have listened to you before, I was just...not thinking clearly."

He returns his eyes to the road, "Yes, of course." He pauses, "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but it's best to just say it without much detail."

She suddenly feels scared of what he was about to tell her.

***

She listens carefully as he speaks, "The first night I left I was just going to a bar because I was stressed. That night I happened to stumble upon him in the bar, I knew it was him the moment he started speaking about a daughter who he had. He was obviously drunk, too drunk. He talked about you, details and everything of when you were younger." He takes a long breath in, "He told me you used to be normal, used to be sane. He said he...used to love you.

"That made me angry, of course. I didn't do anything about it, but I followed him home. After another two days of watching him, I found out he was married and had three step-daughters that he would physically and mentally abuse and rape at night. The oldest could be no older than 11, the youngest maybe 6. The wife knows nothing of the constant abuse, he never hits them hard enough to leave marks.

"One night I decided I would just take him down. He spoke of you with an ill tone, the way he treated his daughters like dirt. It was disgusting, he was just disgusting.

"So, yeah, that's why I killed him. That's why I stalked him for days to study the layout of his house. I sound cruel when I say this but, he really did deserve it and I don't regret it."

Trying to remember how to breathe seemed impossible, Y/N was unable to speak, totally stunned as the truth bounces around inside her skull.

The warmth of her body abandoned her as quickly as the world had gotten old and everyone on earth had vanished. Her face stuck in an incredulous expression, with an unblinking stare. Her brain desperately scrambling to make sense of it all.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N."

She wants to say something but, is rendered speechless. It felt as if the walls were caving in on her. She wasn't sure what to feel, all fault on Toby has left her and now she is trying to decide if it were for the best. She knows it was, her father, that man, abused and raped his own children. It's so sick. He was sick.

If he didn't care enough to talk kindly of her, he wasn't worth the grieving. He wasn't worth the dwelling or the trouble after what he did to those innocent children who probably called him dad. She is glad he died and that they do not have to suffer anymore.

"Are you still mad at me?" She hears Toby ask with a small tone like a child, his voice brings her forward out of her thoughts. She responds immediately, "Of course not, it's just...hard to process."

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