I pick at my nails as I wait. Any sound coming from the hallway causes me to bristle. There’s another loud buzz, and I nearly fall off my chair. The door clicks open, and Officer Dash offers a tight smile as he escorts in my father.

This entire time I’d been picturing our reunion with tears and hugs. But now …

Dad is in handcuffs. He’s sporting more stubble than usual, and his face is drawn.

He’s been in here for a little over twelve hours, and he already looks defeated.

Neither of us speaks as Officer Dash starts undoing Dad’s cuffs.

Officer Dash who is on Dad’s baseball team.

Officer Dash who once came over to our house to make large batches of chili for a fund-raiser when the police department needed new sirens for the three cars in their fleet.

Once the cuffs are off, he leads Dad to the chair across from me. “No physical contact, understand? I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”

I realize he’s saying the second thing for my benefit. As if I need protection from my own father.

Officer Dash, whose two small children I babysit for, no longer trusts my dad.

He nods to the camera in the corner of the room before being buzzed out.

We’re being watched.

The entire Valley Falls police department, including Sheriff Gleason, no longer trusts my father.

And I hate it, I absolutely hate it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust him again, either.

Dad’s eyes are glued to the table. There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence, neither of us knowing what to say. This has never been a problem before. There’d be times when he’d be fishing that we’d both enjoy the silence that being in the middle of a lake gave you, but this is different.

“Are you okay?” I finally ask, even though, I don’t know, maybe he should be a little concerned about how I’m doing.

He moves his head a bit. I’m unsure if it’s a nod or a shake. Then he looks up at me, his eyes wet. “I never meant for this to happen. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” I snap.

There is only one person here responsible for what’s transpired. I’m not sure what’s going to happen once I leave this room or when the next time I’ll be able to talk to him will be. So I have to get answers. Now.

“I need you to tell me everything,” I say, my voice cold. “Everything. I need to know the truth. Who am I?” My voice wavers on that question.

Yeah, I’m pissed. I’m also scared. The reality of the situation hits me—I’m seeing my father as a criminal.