That morning, I had woken up from my nightmare in a cold sweat. Realising that it was time to try to find my father, but I had no idea where to start. I had so little information; it made it much more difficult. The last two weeks had flown by, but the nightmare still played on my mind. I had planned to speak to my mother and see if I could glean any information at all from her, even if it wasn’t directly linked to my father. I made it to Sunday dinner last week. Now I was working at the department store, I rarely worked on Sundays. Giving me more opportunities to go and grill her.
I had asked her if I could look at the family photos, trying to seem as innocent as possible. She was happy enough for me to go through them, but there had been no traces of my father anywhere. I did find a fe
