WESTLEY

I COULDN’T REMEMBER the last pleasant meal I had or a good and long soak in the tub. When was the last time I caught a good sleep? I couldn’t even remember if what day was today, or was it day or night?

I spent days in my bed for days, crying, dwelling in my pain, and my losses. I lost everyone I cared about. The only person who promised and stayed by my side was my father—the last person I expected.

He’d been checking up on me every now and then, sometimes when I was sitting on the bed, lying down, and biting my meal when I couldn’t...