Blame it on the shame Part 1

I didn't even hesitate. If there was a chance I could be free, I had to take it.

I'd be out at 28. That was still plenty of time to live a good life, the way that I wanted. And if I didn't make it out alive, that wouldn't be so bad anyway. I had nothing to live for.

For the first time in my life, I matched my father's stare and a combination of determination and hatred filled me.

I wanted nothing more than to make it out alive.

I had to make it.

If for nothing else than to prove to him that I could.

I wanted to see the look on his face when I reclaimed my own identity and proved him wrong.

But even more than that, I wanted my freedom.

I shook his hand “Okay. Deal.”