I still felt the weight of Mark’s words pressing down on my chest, my father’s murder burning in my mind. Cholo Vacinni

The name repeated in my head like a cursed melody, like a mantra, a name I had never heard before yet one that now controlled my entire past. My hands clenched into fists. My father had been murdered, and Mark had known all this time.

I should’ve been mad at him. Maybe I was, but something about the way he held me, the way his hand stroked my hair in an attempt to ...