The Hatred of the Past

The Schatzman family was terrified.

He had been long terrified by this iron-blooded method.

These words would be passed down from generation to generation.

It was already dark after everything that had happened last night.

Ryker's father's face was pale. 

He felt fortunate to have survived the disaster. 

Guilt-ridden, he said, "The family has grown rapidly these years. It's my fault for not managing it well..."

"Father, there are some things I don't want to say, but you have to understand!"

Ryker Schatzman put down the book. 

The first seven lines of the first page were stained with black ink. 

It was still a little wet, carrying the fragrance of fresh ink.

Seven lines of ink.

What was recorded there?

Who erased it?

The answer was obvious.

Braydon Neal had flipped through every book and smeared over it.

Only Braydon could do this.

Only he was qualified to do so.