Seventy-nine

Brendan is the father. 

It doesn’t make sense. Then it makes a lot of sense. The universe must loathe my being. I shouldn’t exist. 

There is a tiny birthmark at the base of my neck, right on my scar. I forget about it all the time. Some people believe the placement of your birthmark tells the story of how you were killed in your former life. I must have been stabbed in the neck in my past life. I must have been a bigger asshole than I currently am so they decided sending me off in grand style was the only way to do it. Even in this current life, the universe is still punishing me. 

When will I ever catch a break?

I shouldn’t have opened the diary. I should have listened to my guts. Waited till I was home to read it. 

A soft hand weaves into my hair, I bring Bren’s palm to my lips and place a kiss on the heel of her palms. She smiles. Will she still smile if she finds out Daddy is a brother killer? Will sh