It was almost surreal—hard to even comprehend—that Father had ever possessed the kind of twisted resolve needed to hide something as monumental as my gender change from my own mother.
The thought gnawed at me.
If she had known… if she had even suspected the truth, I was certain it would have broken her.
Shattered her heart into pieces.
But she wasn't even granted that chance. She lived her life believing in a lie, and he never flinched.
"Well," he muttered with a low, sardonic breath, "I guess this is karma coming back for me."
His voice wasn't remorseful.
It was distant, almost amused in its resignation.
