Читать книгу BZRK: ORIGINS - Майкл Грант - Страница 7

I should destroy this. There’s no such thing as secure data. Once a thing is written it will somehow escape. But I can’t. I never knew my father wrote anything about himself.

Mr Stern recovered this from a laptop my father once used. A long time ago, now. Or seems a long time ago to me.

This was his story. Mine, too, though at the time I understood almost nothing of what was happening. But this is how . . . well, it’s at least part of how everything began.

My father, Grey McLure. Burnofsky. Lear. Even Caligula. It’s all here. And I could trash can it all, wipe it clean. Except that these are my father’s words, and he’s talking about my mother and my brother. And he’s talking about me. And I find now that every word is infinitely precious.

Soon secrecy won’t matter. Soon very little will matter. But love will matter as long as anything. And I loved my dad.

I am Plath. My enemies have come to fear that name, and I revel in their dread.

But once I was just Sadie. Sadie who loved her dad.