#Chapter 91: Karin

“What’s wrong, Karin?” I’m lying on my bed in a heap still in my school clothes and shoes, my face hidden under my pillow. The sheet beneath my face is damp with tears. My father sits on the edge of the bed next to me. I sit up and throw my arms around his neck. “Did you have a bad day at school?” I nod, my head still pressed against him. “Tell me what happened,” he says. I pull my head off of Dad’s shoulder. His face is still young, his hair still a sandy blonde. It’s the father I know - so unlike the sick old man I last saw at the jail. I wipe my eyes with my hands and rub my nose against my sleeve. Dad reaches over to my bedside table for a tissue. “Here,” he says, holding it over my nose for me to blow. I sit cross-legged on the bed, looking down at my clasped hands. He stuffs the used tissue into his pocket while I take a deep breath. “At lunch today, Margaret asked me about my mother. I told her, ‘I don’t have a mother, j