She laid them all out, one after another, and I heard each one as a good reason he might give up and lower his hand.

He did not lower his hand.

After a long minute of her talking and his palm staying open in the air between them, Nana finally unzipped her purse.

The keys made their sharp jingling sound as she pulled them out, and before I could stop it my shoulders climbed up toward my ears, because I knew that sound the way you know a thing your body learned before your mind did.

My father saw the flinch.

Nana saw it too.