Father and Daughter

Bianca

My father looked away and couldn't say any more words. He shrugged my hands off his shoulders and I glanced away. That was when I remembered to look at Santiago, his hands was placed on the table and he was looking at us.

Our eyes met and I looked away from him. His face was cold and expression-less as usual.

With the back of my palm, I cleaned off the tears that were threatening to overflow.

Silently, Santiago's hand delved into his pocket, he brought out a folded paper and placed it on the table.

My eyes widened as he unfolded and dressed the paper. It was a brightly printed picture of the stranger that I had mistook for Tyler after the explosion.

"Do you seem to recognize him?" Santiago asked, pointing at the picture.

My father picked up the picture, giving it a closer look. His forehead crisped up in a frown and he stared down at the picture.

I was on a hot seat. My body was on fire and I sniffed as I shifted nervously on my seat.

"No," my father finally said and dropped