" Cameron The night that fell after Charlie cut her hand, I dreamed about my father. He was standing over my mom’s lifeless body, a snarl in his lip as he shook his head at me. “I told you you were worthless,” he sneered. “She will move on. She will be fine without you — happier, even. She doesn’t want you. Just like we didn’t.” That same scene, those same words, played on repeat. Over and over he said them, and over and over I tried to shake myself from the nightmare. I couldn’t wake up, though I knew I was dreaming. I was aware of my body, of where I laid in the bed next to Charlie, of where her body touched mine. But I couldn’t wake up. Not until hours into the night, when the nightmare faded with the sound of our heat kicking on, and I bolted upright in bed. Sweat poured off every inch of me, and my breaths were erratic, like I’d just sprinted up and down our stairs for hours. I glanced at Charlie, but she was unfazed, a soft smile on her face as she slept peacefully. And though I saw her, I saw him, too. I heard him. I heard the words I always knew to be true. The next day, I cancelled the rest of my week’s sessions with Patrick. I had nothing else left to say. "

― Kandi Steiner , What He Always Knew (What He Doesn't Know, #2)