Dante held Elena while she cried. His daughter. Innocent. Suffering for his sins. His past. His choices before she existed.

"I'm so sorry, baby. So sorry you're dealing with this. It's not fair. It's not right. You don't deserve this."

"Why did you do bad things, Papa? Why did you hurt people?"

The question stabbed. Simple. Childlike. Devastating.

"I made terrible choices. A long time ago. Before I met your mama. Before I understood what really mattered. I was angry. Scared. Thought power and control would keep me safe. I was wrong."

"But you're good now, right? You don't do bad things anymore?"

"I try very hard to be good....