A PLEA FOR MERCY

ANNA'S POV

The morning sun filtered through the lace curtains of my modest suburban home, casting delicate patterns of light across the living room floor. I sat at the kitchen table, my fingers wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee. The aroma was a small comfort as I tried to settle into the new rhythm of married life. The past few months had been a whirlwind, and I was still finding my footing.

The sound of the doorbell interrupted my thoughts. I frowned, not expecting any visitors. I rose from my chair and walked to the front door, my heart sinking as I saw who was standing on the other side. My father, Sam, looked older than I remembered, the lines on his face deeper and his shoulders slumped with a weariness that spoke of more than just physical exhaustion.

"Anna," Sam said, his voice soft and tinged with regret. "Can we talk?"

I hesitated, my mind flashing back to the countless times he had let me down, the broken promises, the torture, and the pains he's inflicted on me... B