“Consider it a family tradition,” she said.

The girls asked more questions than I expected.

They wanted to know whether they had been difficult babies, what I had been afraid of, whether I had ever considered returning to my parents’ house, and what Mrs.

Avery had said when we finally moved to a safer apartment.

I answered without pretending I had done everything right.

I admitted that sometimes I raised my voice because I was tired.

I admitted I had missed school events and cried after work, and that both girls had helped one another with homework on nights I barely understood what they were studying.