umairazfar

>>>Trigger Warning: This story contains references to abuse. Some readers may want to skip it, or proceed with caution<<< “I am sorry for your loss”, Mr. Banks said as he put a hand on my shoulder. I knew that the concern on his face was genuine and he meant every word that he said. One of the few individuals I have known my life that were truthful in their manner and in their character. His forehead was white as that of a man gone sick and a bead of sweat trickled down on to his brow that he quickly wiped off with his handkerchief. Even though his words were sincere but they sounded meaningless to me. What loss was he talking about when he said that he was sorry for …

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