I don’t know, Dad. Perhaps I’ve blamed you for too much, which is why I felt inclined to write so much now, the one and only reply you’ll ever receive from me. I have no idea what the two of you shared in your letters, but this is the only wish of Carolyn’s I’m still able to grant, this very long letter, an answer to the hundreds you’ve written me, only one of which I ever read, the only one I ever will. After everything had happened, there was a time when I was able to function, and I accomplished things I’ll take to the grave being proud of, things I know that Mom would have been proud of, too. Maybe there will be more of them; maybe there won’t. But I’m done peering over my shoulder. The more I try getting back the things I’ve lost along the way the more stuff keeps going out the window. For good or bad this is the life I’ve lived, and perhaps there’s something to it, or will be in time. Who’s to say? But at the very least, now you know. My side of the story.

The End

Copyright

Copyright © 2012 Jobie Hughes

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available

eISBN : 978-1-593-76493-7

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