Rar - Rmyhausmannprfectdy

She realized with a sickening jolt that her entire childhood wasn't a series of memories; it was a series of alibis. She wasn't his daughter; she was his camouflage.

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Elara sat in the interrogation room, her own hair pulled back so tight it pulsed. She remembered the Saturdays of her childhood. Her father would wake her at dawn, whispering that they were going on an adventure. They would go to the botanical gardens, or a quiet lakeside, or a hidden library. He called them their "Perfect Days." She realized with a sickening jolt that her