Epilogue

An eighteen-year-old Thomas walked into his father's office. One look at him and his father's old valet ushered him inside without a preamble. He knew that his mother would be there as well and this would make it even harder. He had made up his mind though. He had to know the truth. They had told him the stories and always tried to paint him in a positive light, but he still remembered. The stench of alcohol as the man accosted him and slurred in ears. Thomas had been so terrified, but even more, terrified of the facial expression he had seen in his mother's eyes. He had to know. He had to see it for himself and understand what this man had done to cause such a look to appear in his mother's eyes. And so, he went on with his plan and laid out his proposition. He could only hope that this did not offend his true father. The man that had raised him with love when the one that sired him had not cared even one bit. "I... I just want to walk the steps that mom took. No offence dad. I j