Now I noticed how tired he looked.
How carefully he avoided my eyes.
He didn't seem surprised when I entered.
"Sarah."
I placed the report on his desk.
"Tell me why you signed this."
He stared at the paper.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he removed his glasses.
"I was afraid this day would come."
My chest tightened.
"So it's true?"
He nodded slowly.
"I authorized the treatment."
I felt as though something inside me had collapsed.
"Why?"
"Because Dr. Rowan convinced me it could save your injured eye."
"And my right eye?"
His voice broke.
"Your right eye was healthy when you arrived."
I stepped backward.
"Then you knew."
He covered his face.
"Yes."
For twenty years, I had believed my father was the person who fought hardest to save my sight.
Now I was standing before the man who had allowed the procedure that destroyed it.
