William Storm

Perhaps
William sits on the edge of your bed and gently runs his hand over your head
You're not ready to know the end of this story yet.
Storm slams the book shut and puts it on the highest shelf so you can't reach it.
Forgive me, child. Sleep until the morning.

I am your father, sometimes it is hard for me to cope with you. Sometimes I want to yell, but I always come to only one conclusion, I can't leave you alone.
I have faded blue eyes that were once brighter than the sky. I have black hair that once resembled the night sky.
I love my job as a detective, but I hate coming home late because I remember leaving you alone. You are all I have left after your mother died.