Chapter 50

CHAPTER FIFTY

PRESENT TIME

KENDALL'S POINT OF VIEW

I let out a sigh as I threw away a rumpled up paper for the umpteenth time. I took out a fresh paper and stared blankly at the crisp white sheet of paper before me.

What could I possibly say to my father?

I had to write this letter to him, but I had absolutely no idea what to say. I picked up the pen, my fingers trembling slightly as I poised it over the paper.

But as I tried to form the words, they seemed to elude me, slipping through my grasp like water through clenched fingers. With a frustrated sigh, I dropped the pen back onto the desk.

I sighed again, burying my head into my palms. With another sigh, I raised up my head and chewed on my lip.

I had to think of something.

I reached for the pen once more and this time, I forced myself to put pen to paper.

Yet as I wrote, it seemed like my words were inadequate, meaningless. I paused, reading over what I had written, and shook my head in frustration. It wasn't right, it wasn't enoug