Her daddy went on a walk today. The apartment shook as he slammed the door. He said he would only be an hour. He didn't come back that day. He didn't come back next week. She doesn't understand where Daddy went, but she can hear her mother crying every night in the other room.

She waited for Daddy to protect her. She hoped he would come home and be her hero. The storm was loud. The raucous thunder bellowed through the sky, echoing off the hallow walls. She brought her blankets above her head as tears streamed down her face. The sky was too bright. The lightning burned as it touched the ground. The world appeared on fire. She was five. She was scared. The apartment shook. Daddy never came.

Her gaze continues out the window, thankful for the continuous scenery. It helps her mind wander away from the words bombarding out of her mother's mouth. Her head leans against the vibratious window, reminding her of the pot holes that fill the town and the poverty in which they live. She does not mind. It is her home and it has always been there for her. The potholes are reliable. She knows there will never be money to fix them. Just as she knows she must always lock her window at night. Her neighborhood is not safe. It will never be safe. She does not mind. She knows the leak in her ceiling will never be fixed because there will never be enough money to go around. She does not mind. She has come to term with these things. They are her consistencies. They will never change.

She does not want change, nor does she wish for change. Wanting and wishing will lead to hope. She has learned her lesson. She is no Riley. Her childhood was not built on a firm foundation of family game nights and Disney music. She grew up with the incandescent sounds of quarreling and neighboring gunshots. With low expectations, nothing can ever disappoint you. She will not hope, so her hopes will not be crushed. It was simple logic. A mantra she lives by. Hope is for the Rileys of the world. Rileys don't have to have conversations like these.

This was never the way this conversation was supposed to go. In fact, in her mind it was never supposed to happen at all. This was forbidden territory, his name, an unspeakable term. But the day had come. Pessimistically, she had repeated these same words over and over in her head as possibilities of what happened. Nothing she heard was a new concept. The surprise was that it was all reality.

Abandoned.

Replaced.

Unloved.

She does not hope. Hope only brings pain.

She does not cry because he is not worth her tears. Or at least she tells herself that as the beginnings of tears prickle toward her inner eye. She adamantly tries to avoid her mother's words. She focuses on her quickened heart rate and her sudden lack of breath. They had finally divorced. Five years later. She never wanted to hear about this. She never wanted to learn about the walk where Daddy never came back. Deep down she knew these things. She wanted them to stay below surface. But her mom needs someone to talk to and she will be there to listen. She will put her own sanity in the trash for a chance to raise her mother's spirits. Her head will lay against the window, watching the consistency she once craved. Now her wish has come true. Daddy is never coming back. She minds.

Mr. Matthews forced her to write to him. She thought it would be simple to forgive someone after nine years. So she wrote the letter. It took all her strength to dig up the past. The second she wrote his name the questions kept flowing. She wanted to know why he left and what she did. What she could have possibly done at the age of five to have her own father abandon them. All she could think about was that damn letter the entire week. She regretted it, she worried about it, she resented the assignment. And then he showed up.

Since the day of the divorce papers, she turned her sadness to anger. She vowed to never waste her tears on that man again. He had a new family now and they weren't a part of that. Maya Hart does not panic. Maya Hart does not cry. Maya Hart does not care about her father.

He entered the cafe. She barely recognized him. He asked to step outside, away from her mother and the family that took her in as their own. She could tell he was nervous. He never expected he would have to apologize or explain his actions. He tried to explain that it wasn't her fault, that she had done nothing wrong. His explanations were weak, only filled with mere excuses. There was no specific answer she was looking for, even if his explanation was justified it never would have been enough for her. His job was to stay. His job was to be her father. His job was to protect her from storms and support her. Instead, he left.

She felt better knowing it wasn't her fault, yet somehow it was like she knew it all along. But she failed the assignment. After all he did and all the time that passed, she still could not forgive him. She walked back into the cafe, broken all over again. Tears streamed down her face as she approached her mother and Riley.

So she'll bury it down deep in the soft embers of her heart, daddy issues acting as coal to fuel her pain. Maybe one day she'll pass this test of forgiveness with flying colors. But her heart is broken and pieces are still being picked off the floor. So for now she'll take the failure, it will be the most she ever worked for an F in her life. But for right now, she really does not mind.