"Look, Trent." Drake handed him a letter.
Trent froze. It was from his birth dad. "I can't read this." He threw it down.
"Trent, maybe you should-"
"He's in jail for what he did, but I don't think that's enough." Trent almost yelled. Drake followed him to his room, trying to tell him he should at least read the letter. Trent slammed the window shut. "I'm not reading his letter! He deserves to rot and die alone in that cell just like he made mom rot and die!" Trent yelled, sitting on his bed with his back to Drake.
"You know better than that, Trent." Drake said softly before looking at the window. He wondered if the fight today impacted Trent. "Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes." He said before leaving.
Trent sat silently for a few moments before he started his music again. He grabbed his pillow and hugged it, resting his head on it. He wouldn't cry, but he was still sad. He did all he could to hide the memories of that day, and yet, fate always found some way to drag them out.