After the Divorce I Took My Three Girls to California — Then the Housekeeper Walked Into Their Thanksgiving Dinner and Ended Everything
And Willa — my quiet, watchful, unreadable girl — set her laptop aside.
“If Mom leaves,” she said, “she’s taking the girls.”
“Yes,” he said, and I heard the hope in it, the sense that she was following him toward the conclusion he wanted.
“So you want me to abandon my sisters.” Her voice didn’t rise.
If anything it got quieter, and quieter from Willa was worse than loud from anyone else.
“You want me to break up our family so I can keep a nice bedroom.
That’s the trade.”