My father loved me. I know that. I have always known that. And I loved him. I always did. I always will, no matter how much I wanted to destroy everything he worked for. That made betraying him much harder than I would ever like to admit. And if I am being honest with myself, that is the reason it took me so long to act. I was delaying the inevitable. Hoping for another year of normal life before I had to pull the trigger. But in the end I could not pull the trigger. To my profound disappointment and relief, I did not have it in me to shoot my father in the head. I did not kill my father. I could not. I am sorry.