Prologue

"Don't tell your father", my mother uttered.

I sat across from her in our small living room. The yellow wallpaper felt cold. The most painful sentence of my life had just fallen from my mouth, and my mother wasn't looking at me anymore.

"If you wish to confess, Father Laurent would be delighted to see you", she added, getting up. She walked briskly to the kitchen, opening the fridge. "I think we'll eat steak tonight."

That's when it all started to go to shit. I don't eat steak anymore.