Chapter 5 - Killed in a Car Crash

The contact with my father was limited to occasional emails and other forms of insignificant communication that was best kept between polite strangers. I never saw his face. Every other memory of my father was wiped away by the memories of his tormented, dazed face the last time I saw him. As I grew older, I realized that my father had never felt offended that a strange man came into our house and threatened me. He was only concerned about his deceased wife. It made me wonder if I was somehow the reason for our grief. Maybe he held me responsible for what happened. Maybe I was responsible. I had often regretted not being older or mature enough to sit my mother down and convince her that her job was not only dangerous for her but also for us, those who loved her to bits. But if she was anything like me, she would never have listened to my concerns. She would have thrown away her safety for her love for her job.