It was St Jerome who said that the face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart. He also said it's worse still to be ignorant of your ignorance. 

I spent my entire evening looking in my Dad's face as he spoke happily about his travels over the past two months, and as I faked a smile at every story he told me, I couldn't help but feel stupid once again. 

How ignorant could I be? 

I had already had my doubts of him but deep down I didn't want to believe them as I thought that he wouldn't really hide things from me. 

But I was wrong. 

As I sat before him I just got a feeling that I should force him to answer my questions. 

So I asked the first one. 

He tried to hide his surprise at my sudden curiosity by brushing me off. 

So I asked again, and a bit more forcefully this time. 

That's when we had to end our dinner, and that's when he realized that I won't let this matter rest until he tells me what I need to know. 

Which led us to this particular moment, where everything changed. 

My life suddenly took a turn for the worse. 

"You don't need to know what's inside, these are my private belongings."

I stand before my Dad in the practice room, he's trying his best to stop me from finding out what's in that safe, but I won't back down this time, I have a feeling that there's something in there that I need to know about.

Two hours ago, we were at his favourite overpriced restaurant enjoying a nice father-daughter meal, but behind my actions was a hidden agenda, and my true intentions came to light when I asked him once more about my mother's scores. I made sure to let him know that I've been doing some digging of my own and everything leads back to him.

He then tried to play it off as my sources being unreliable, but I wasn't going to let him shut me out this time around. When I asked him about his safe in the practice room, his fork fell from his hand to his plate and he gave me a surprised look, again he refused to tell me anything, so I had to threaten him with the one thing I know that he never wants to hear. 

I told him I would stop playing the cello. 

It wasn't a bluff either, without my actual cello I feel like part of me is missing, I also feel like I'm betraying my cello if I touch another instrument. I'm graduating soon anyway, I think it's time to close this chapter of my life without any regrets. 

"Open it." 

After my little bomb at the restaurant, I quickly drove us home so he could show me what he's been hiding in the practice room all this time. With a heavy sigh, he turns around and then punches in password, as soon as I hear the beep of approval I march over to him and reach inside the safe, pulling out the numerous large envelopes he has inside. 

"Be careful with those." 

I place the various envelopes on the piano, with shaking fingers I reach for the heaviest one, I notice how withered the corners are, it's as if he has opened and closed the envelope many times. I ignore his warnings as I pull out the first paper, tears immediately came to my eyes as I saw the raised dots that runs across the paper.

With a soft sob I shake the envelope and the scores fall out and scatter all over the room. As soon as the papers hit the floor, he rushes to pick them up, as I watch him I realize how much he cherishes these scores, it's like he worships them. 

Something among the scattered paper catches my eyes, two long sheets of paper lay distinctively with the other papers. I could tell that there's something strange about them as they're actually English words on the sheets, the fact that they're not in braille tells me that my mother did not write these herself. 

As soon as I bring the papers closer to my face a few words jump out at me. A strong voice in the back of my mind tells me not to read what's written there, but my curiosit