I haven’t had the guts to talk to my dad
I feel better today. I feel a little lighter or happier or something, now that I’ve told somebody what I know. I’m glad it was Tracy. She hasn’t been hard to be around since. It hasn’t been awkward or hard. But it makes me feel bad that I haven’t had the guts to talk to my dad. I think I have to tell him about the things I see. I don’t like having a secret from him. But I’m so afraid of starting that conversation.
It was so hard for him after mom and Zoey died. And he’s been so happy since he married Tracy and had Zachary. And I feel like I’ll just be reminding him of bad times. I’m also afraid he’ll kick me out, the way he did with Brayden. He could technically. I’m seventeen. He doesn’t have to let me stay in our home.
It’s not that I really think he’ll do that. Kick me out I mean. But he loved my mom more than anybody and he never really accepted her gifts. He never liked her involvement with any of Brayden’s cases. But I have to tell him. He’s going to start figuring it out.
Like with the kid who got hit by the baseball the other day. He knew there was no reason for me to be in that neighborhood with those people, barefoot, when I was supposed to be ice skating with Noah. He never asked me about it. But if this is going to keep happening, we’re bound to end up near each other.
He helps people for a living. And I know, already, that I have to help people. I have to try. If I don’t, if I try to ignore it, the guilt will just get worse and worse and worse. And all the people I couldn’t help will haunt me the same way Zoey does, the same way my mom does. And I could never take all of that.