Fifteen Years After My Father Changed the Locks, He Seated Me at Table Twenty-Two

Clare turned to the room.

“My sister wrote to me for fifteen years.

My father made sure I never read one word.”

A man at table three pushed his chair back and crossed his arms.

Gerald said, “Clare, I’m warning you.”

“You are not warning me,” Clare said.

“You are embarrassing yourself.”

Margaret reached for Gerald’s sleeve.