My father began to apologize, but it felt rehearsed, and my mother sat quietly, occasionally nodding. 'We made some mistakes,' he said, his voice shaky. 'We shouldn't have believed everything...' he trailed off, glancing at my mother for support. 'We were wrong to let you go like that,' she added softly, her eyes watering. It was hard to tell if their remorse was genuine or driven by ulterior motives. Either way, their words barely scratched the surface of the pain they caused.