C46 The End of Day, Not the End of the War.

I shoved my father harder against the car, the metallic thud echoing through the air as his back hit the frame, but it didn’t satisfy the rage boiling inside me. His smirk—the same one I’d now found myself resenting—mocked me even now, a taunting reminder of how far he’d go to destroy anyone who defied

“Go on, boy. Do it," he sneered, his voice calm despite the strain in his throat