Dad, I'm No Illegitimate Child

---- Chapter 6 "William, go look for Edith, would you? No matter what she's done, she's still your daughter," Agnes said. "T already told you that I don't blame her for pushing me back then. I'm still alive, aren't I? Our daughter only ended up with a few scars. She's fine. Just forgive Edith." Her soft persuasion seemed to have moved him. For a moment his expression wavered. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, his resolve hardened again. He said into the phone, his voice icy, ''She's 18. Whether she lives or dies has nothing to do with me.

If she really is dead, it only proves how deep her sins run." Hearing him speak with such certainty, Ms. Parker finally ended the call. I felt a strange heaviness weighing me down. I shouldn't have felt anything. After all, my heart had been carved out. How could an empty body feel pain? ---- Agnes sighed against Dad's chest. "I told you to spend a little time with Edith that day. She's never liked Helen. She must have felt out when she saw Helen celebrate her birthday with you.

If her mother knew she was upset, she would be heartbroken." "Don't mention that woman," Dad snapped, his eyes flashing. "She and her worthless mother are the same. They should both die. I never want to see either of them again." Agnes fell silent, but when she rested her head against him, I saw the faint curve of a smile tug at her lips. I wanted to leave this house and go far away. But my soul felt trapped as though it were somehow tethered there. Not to the place, but to him. When I was alive, Dad pushed me as far away as possible.

He even sent me to boarding school and refused to pick me up on weekends. Now that I was dead, I circled him day and night like a shadow. How ironic. ---- Iwas sure he would explode with fury if he could see me. During all this time, he hadn't searched for me even once. His colleague, Samuel, seemed far more concerned about my disappearance than my own father. Half a month later, something finally changed. The abductor was caught. He had murdered a young couple and was arrested for it.

I stared at the man who had tortured me, remembering every slice of his knife, every time he peeled back my skin, and every second he carved my heart free from my chest. My soul trembled violently. I clenched my fists so tightly that they passed right through themselves. I wanted to strangle him. But even if I wrapped my hands around his throat, I couldn't harm him. Ghosts were supposed to be able to haunt people, or so the stories said. ---- Even in death, I was useless. I wasn't even a real ghost. I was just a fragment of soul the world refused to claim.

In the interrogation room, the abductor leaned back in his chair and laughed at Dad. "Mr. Carter, did you like your daughter's heart? She was the most perfect work of art I've ever made. Her hair was so black and smooth. I plucked it out strand by strand and played with it between my fingers. Her skin was so pale as well. I kept it in formalin so it would last. I wanted to preserve her beauty." Dad's brow tightened, and he slammed a hand on the table. "Enough nonsense. You won't be able to confuse me by fabricating stories.

Tell me the truth about why you killed that couple." "T'm not lying," the man said easily. "Why don't you believe anything? No wonder your daughter kept saying you didn't love her or trust her. How should I prove myself to you?" He smiled, his eyes shining. "Your daughter has a red mole on her left elbow, like a drop of blood on ---- porcelain. Her second toe is very long, and her toenails are pink and adorable. I cut them off and kept them separately. She likes wearing plaid underwear, though I found it childish. And her body-"