"What are you blaming me for?" eighteen-year-old Trinity Averhart exclaimed. She was sitting on the couch with her arms folded across her chest. Or at least she had been the moment before. By now, though, she had jumped to her feet angrily. "Hell, I'm your daughter!" she went on yelling. "You're supposed to take my side!"

"Not when you're a criminal," her father responded. "And why should I take the side of the guilty?"

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Try telling that to the town official who brought you to my doorstep at three o'clock in the morning."

"I didn't do anything wrong," she repeated through gritted teeth.

"How do I know that for sure?"

"Can't you just trust me for once?" She sighed. "You haven't even heard my side of the story yet."

"Fine," he replied before taking a seat. "Explain."

Trinity hated it when he sat in that armchair. He only ever sat there when he had the intentions of judging her. And she knew she wasn't going to be able to get through to him because he wasn't even going to bother to listen to a word she had to say. But she figured she still might as well go for it.

"I didn't do it," she stated simply. "I was just in the very wrong place at the very wrong time."

"Yes, that seems to happen to you a lot," he pointed out.

She pursed her lips. "Right. But I'm always the one who calls for help. Why would I do that if I allegedly caused the trouble to begin with?"

"To try to make everyone believe you were innocent, which has indeed been working in your favour up until now. But tonight you were caught at the scene of the crime and now every other incident has all eyes on you. And you do even understand that since you're eighteen now the consequences will be far worse?"

"I'm well aware of all that, yes, but I swear it's always just unfortunate timing."

"Please, no one has luck that bad," he denied. "Besides," he got back to his feet, "you have no evidence to help you. Thus, I have no reason to believe you didn't do it."

She shook her head. "Every time. You do this to me every damn time!"

"Then you shouldn't be so surprised. Just like I won't be surprised when you run away tonight because that's what you do every time."

"One of these times I won't come back," she threatened.

Now he laughed. "And where would you go? You have no one here for you; no one who would be willing to help you."

"I don't need anyone. I practically raised myself anyhow."

His laughter only continued to echo through the house. "Please, you can't do anything for yourself. You can't protect yourself. You can't even handle yourself."

"So you really think you've taken care of me all these years? Hah! With the way you've treated me, you're the reason I do know how to handle myself."

"Then why are you still here? Why have you kept returning?"

"Good question," she admitted, angry at herself for not having a real answer. "Consider me gone." She turned to leave.

"One last thing, darling daughter of mine," he stopped her, using a condescending tone of voice.

"Yes, daddy dearest?" she responded with the same tone.

"When you come back," he began, his lips curling into a smirk, "you must confess to everything, and then I will only bail you out if you agree—"

"Save your breath," she cut him off. "I won't be returning this time. And I promise you that." Trinity then walked out of the house and into the cold night. "Like you said, there's nothing here for me."