Garnet leaned down close to me, and his voice dropped.

“You’re going to apologize.” “No.” I watched the word land on him, and I watched him not know what to do with it, because in his entire life he had never heard it from me — not because I was weak, but because his mother had spent thirty years begging me not to fight with him, and I had spent thirty years honoring her wish at the cost of my own judgment.

He was used to a father who yielded.

He had built his whole understanding of me around it.