Dad, you are from Milwaukee. We go every year to visit Grandma.
Am I, son? Or is that what I've wanted you to believe all this time? What if everything you knew to this point, to this moment was a story, a story you've been led to believe is true. Lies are easy to live in, son, easy to wrap your mind around. The truth you see is much deeper than that. The truth will take you down the rabbit hole into a world I hope you are ready for. We've worked hard to hide the truth from you, to give you a normal childhood. I've had to limit my exposure to the public in order to protect you.
You've worked as a bank teller for the last five years dad. I wouldn't call that limiting your exposure; it's more of a career rut.
Do you want mother and me to bend time again? Perhaps conjuring images of your past will allow you to come to terms with who we are.
Dad, mom left two years ago.
Perhaps she did or maybe that is what we wanted you to believe. Maybe it is just another layer to the onion that is your life.
There is no "perhaps," she left you for your old boss Mr. Nelson. They send us a Christmas card every year. She's moved on dad, we all did.
Did that occur in this reality or another?
Well, dad, it was good seeing you again, same time next week?
Beware the horns of Amber, for they are laced with the lies of Fawkes.
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