My father, who was in mourning and couldn’t tell me about it.

I remember how sad Dad was at the time, but I thought it was because he was hurt and we didn’t know how we were going to pay our bills. He had to hide a lot from me.

I get up and pace the room. When I have to really think about Dad now, only fury bubbles up. I think there will always be a layer of disappointment and anger with what my father did and, what hurts the most, the lies he’s told.

The last time I spoke with him—which might’ve been our last conversation for years—I turned my back on him as he begged for my forgiveness. He’s going to jail. He’s alone. And he’s in there because of me.

This isn’t how I want to leave things between us. Before I can move on and make sense of everything, I have to forgive him. That doesn’t mean what he’s done will ever be okay, but it’s not helping me to hold this anger so close to my heart.

Because of the no-contact order between us, I don’t have a lot of options. None, really. But I do have Sheriff Gleason, and maybe he can help.

I take a small piece of paper and write down three things:

I’m sorry.

I love you.

I forgive you.

I fold it into a tiny piece, hoping I can persuade Sheriff Gleason to give this to my dad. Or tell him these things.

What if he can’t? Or refuses?

I can’t have Dad sitting in jail thinking I hate him.

The only thing I can control at this moment is my statement. If the media reports on it, maybe Dad will see it.

Writing those essays had been like pulling teeth. Every word a struggle. But as I start to type, the words pour out.

In the past few days, my world has been turned upside down.

That disruption, in part, has been caused by the media. While I appreciate the concern that has been shown about my well-being, I wish to be left alone. I want to go on living the boring, normal, and wonderful life that I’ve been leading.

It’s important for me to let everybody know that I love my father. He made a horrible decision that has impacted many, but whatever happens in court will not change my feelings for him.

My focus will be to finish out school and get to know my mother and my family.

I’m asking that the media respect my privacy—and that of my family and community—during this difficult time.

I sit back and examine what I’ve written. I put in the part about Paula because—while it’s mostly true—a plan has begun to form in my head. I need her on my side.