"No, wait! Daddy, you can't go with them! You just can't!"

The scary men at the door snorted. They had come to take my father away. I didn't know why, but I couldn't let them.

He turned to me, smiling. "Sierra, now...make this easy for me..."

One of the men at the door growled, "Make it quick, Gavin. We don't have all day."

Dad turned and glared at him. "No need for that, Xander. I'll be there soon."

"Dad!" I cried out again.

He leaned toward me. "Sierra, this is for your own good. I have to leave with them. I'm so, so sorry."

His voice was surprisingly calm, while mine was whining and loud.

"Daddy, please! Don't leave me like Mom did!"

He kissed my forehead, brushing my hair away from my face. "See you soon, Sierra. I love you more than anything."


But he was already gone out the door. And my seven-year-old self curled up into a ball and began to cry and cry and cry.