It's been a month since I have seen papa. I spent a week with him, just remembering the good ole days living a good ole fashion life.

Until he came for me. It was exactly seven days, one week gone that Vincent came to my father's penthouse.

I've never seen him so disheveled as he was that afternoon.

I still remember it as though it was yesterday.

I was sitting in my bedroom when I heard a commotion. My long jersey barely enough to cover the tops of my ...