My Ten Years of Silence: Whispers of the Dead
Language: en
When I was sixteen, a killer broke into our house, tortured and murdered my mother, and burned the place to the ground, erasing all the evidence. I was there. I watched the whole thing. My dad, my uncle, the cops—they asked me over and over what happened that night. I kept my mouth shut. They thought the trauma had made me mute, so they handed me a pen and paper, asking me to write down what the killer looked like. I still stayed silent. I didn’t move a muscle. Ten years later, I’m twenty-six. Because of my mother’s unsolved murder, my dad and I had a falling out. We hadn’t seen each other…