Page 76 of Sinful
She goes back into Dad's room, leaving me alone in the hallway.
Around two AM, Dad wakes up.
Not fully—he's still sedated, still foggy—but his eyes open and focus on Mom's face.
"Starla," he rasps.
"I'm here. I'm right here." Mom's crying again, but smiling through it. "You're home, baby. You're safe."
"Helle—" His eyes search the room. "Is she?—"
"I'm here, Dad." I move closer, into his line of sight.
His eyes focus on me. Sharpen despite the drugs.
We stare at each other for a long moment.
The last time we really talked—really looked at each other—was three years ago.
The night he found out I was the leak.
The night he called me a disappointment.
"You came back," he says finally.
"Of course I did. You're my father."
He makes a sound that might be a laugh. Might be a sob. "Stubborn girl."
"Wonder where I get it."
His remaining hand moves—reaches for me weakly.
I take it, and his fingers close around mine.
"What I said," he starts, voice rough and halting. "Three years ago. After Vanir found out. After we knew."
I tense. Don't want to hear this. Don't want to relive that night.
"I was wrong."
The words hit like a slap to the face.
"You were used," Dad continues, each word clearly costing him. "Manipulated by someone who knew exactly what he was doing. And I—" He stops, swallows. "I blamed you for being human. For trusting someone. For falling in love."
Tears are streaming down my face now, hot and fast.
"I was so angry at what happened—at how close we came to losing everything—that I couldn't see past my own rage." His grip tightens slightly. "Couldn't see thatyou were a victim too. That you lost just as much as we did."
"Dad—"
"Let me finish." He takes a shaky breath. "You're not a disappointment. You never were. You're my daughter. You're smart and strong and you survived something that would've broken most people." His eyes are wet now too. "And I'm sorry. For what I said. For making you feel like you had to run. For not protecting you when I should have."
I'm sobbing now—ugly, broken sounds that I can't control.
"I'm sorry too," I manage. "For everything. For being so stupid. For trusting him. For—" I can't say it. Can't confess that I killed Andrés and that's why he was taken. "For not being stronger."
"You're the strongest person I know." His voice is fading, exhaustion pulling him back under. "Came into a Los Coyotes safehouse alone. Faced them down. Saved your old man." A weak smile. "That's not weakness. That's a fucking warrior."
