“I mumbled. It was so difficult to speak now. “How did it feel to see your father again?” Jack asked right back, glancing over his shoulder at my father slumped in the chair. I thought of the moment I had seen him standing outside in the snow. I’d just wanted to run to him – to be held by him. I knew how Jack must have felt. Why should his feelings be any different than mine had been? “It felt good. Didn’t it, Jack?” I whispered over my cracked and broken lips. A fine spray of powder fell away a...nd covered my knees. “It made you feel happy.” “Yes,” he nodded slowly, as if savoring that memory. “Aren’t those feelings better than the ones of hate you feel?” I croaked. I still believed that he could be saved. I felt sure of it. That little boy he had once been was still inside him. “Hate is good,” he smiled back at me. “Hate got me this far.” “It hasn’t got you anywhere,” I mumbled. “It hasn’t got the curse lifted, and that’s what you want.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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