Grief and Madness: After His Daughter Died

"Is it because of my dad?"I finally asked, "Did he take the fall for the White family?"

Ryan's expression changed suddenly.

"Yes, but it was your father's choice. I know it's hard to believe," Ryan said, instructing someone to bring a box down from upstairs.

I took the box and opened it with trembling hands. Inside was a handwritten letter from my father. It was his confession.

He chose this path willingly. The Smith family was already failing, with too much debt to cover. He used his life to secure a future for the Smith family. He expressed his concern for me, asked the White family to treat me well, and said he knew I liked Grayson. He hoped the White family would keep their word.

As I looked at the familiar handwriting, I thought of the happy times when the three of us were together.

But after I started middle school, my parents' relationship changed. They often argued, sometimes even breaking things at home.

In front of me, they pretended to be loving.

Their relationship had long been broken. I talked with my mom back then and knew she had someone else. I could accept their divorce.

In this era, there's no need to stay together for the sake of the children.

But my mom sneered and said I didn't understand. She couldn't be happy in this circle.

After that, my mom rarely saw me. Instead, Grayson's mom often bought me gifts and took me out.

"I respect your choice," Ryan sighed. "This matter couldn't be hidden forever. If you want to overturn the case, I can help you."

Maybe Ryan felt guilty about Emily's death. I told him I wanted to see my father.

"Alright, I'll arrange it."

I got to see my father, but he refused to revisit the old case. He said I didn't need to worry about it.

"I did it willingly. Don't come to see me anymore. Our bond ends here."

My father kept his back to me. I couldn't understand what he wanted, or how he could be so heartless.

"I don't need you to use your life to pave the way for me, Dad. I really don't. I haven't liked Grayson for a long time... I..."

I didn't want to live alone and miserable. I wanted my own family. But my family had been broken since middle school.

My father said coldly, "It wasn't for you. Don't feel guilty. I did it for myself."

I didn't know how I left that day. The glaring sunlight shone on me as I walked.

Emily was gone, and so was my little family.

My parents were estranged from me. My family was shattered.

I walked down the street like a puppet, when suddenly there was a screech of brakes. Grayson pulled me to safety.

His eyes were red, "Are you okay?"

I had nearly been hit by a car. Grayson held me tightly and said he was scared to death. He told me it was better not to go out for a while because my mental state was too unstable.

I struggled to speak, telling Grayson, "I didn't deliberately hide your mother's death from you."

Tears fell from my eyes, and Grayson froze for a moment. He gently wiped away my tears and spoke softly.

"I know, I don't blame you."

Grayson was like me. His family was also broken. But he was luckier than me. The White family hadn't gone bankrupt, and his grandfather was still alive.