Astrid
My father, Lexington, stood before me, his posture slightly bent. I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms as I fought to maintain control. Magnus stood to my right, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
Lexington's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes narrowing as he took in my stiff posture and clenched jaw. "Astrid," he began, his voice low, "I know I've wronged you—"
"Wronged me?" I cut him off, my voice shaking. My cheeks flared. "You abandoned me! You left me to fend for myself against Mother's cruelty. You never cared, not once, about what I was going through. And now, after months—no, years—of silence, you stand here expecting what, exactly? Forgiveness?"
He winced at my words, but I quickly shoved down any sympathy that tried to rise within me. He didn't deserve it. Not after everything.
