The ride was quiet. Charles sat silently, his face calm but his mind anything but. When August mentioned him, neither Charles nor August spoke another word until they parted ways.
"Charles..." Janice glanced at his stern profile, hesitating to speak but unsure what to say.
"It's alright. I don't hate him anymore," Charles finally said, noticing the worry in her eyes. He reached out, clasping her cold hand gently, offering a comforting smile. The name Derrick no longer stirred the bitterness it once did. Perhaps when he lost everything, the resentment dissolved as well.
To Charles, Derrick was still someone who had once done him a favor. Compared to August, he had no grounds for hatred. After all, they'd been father and son for twenty-eight years. But what Derrick had brought to August was only pain—pain and betrayal.
