I couldn't describe the look in Papa’s eyes, or maybe I just didn't want to. Perhaps I didn't want to acknowledge it.

“Miele.” I looked down to see Medea crawling to Papa, panting, looking so pale and utterly pathetic you would think she was poisoned. “She… she just came on to me. I was trying to talk to her. I was trying to get close to her and mend our relationship like you suggested we do, but she just… she… just–”

Her voice broke as she sobbed, her body shaking, grabbing onto Papa’s leg. I just stared at her. I couldn't say anything, I couldn't even scoff at the ridiculous...