KODA'S POV
"What did I do?" I asked.
"You are his son," she retorted without hesitation. "You are his blood."
The words hit like physical blows. I had heard variations of this accusation my entire life, but coming from her, they cut deeper.
"How can you have goodness in you when you descended from him?" she asked, and I could see her struggling with the question herself. "I try to rationalize it. I try to separate you and your father and sometimes it works."
She was sitting up fully now, her eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.
"In fact, despite the sickness of these games we are forced to fight in, I have somehow found a way to reconcile that you are not part of this violence. But you are. Not just because you are his son. But because you have used these games to get what you want. You allowed someone to be killed to save my life before and you will probably do it again."
