The Chair in the Center of the Table
I didn’t answer.
Then a message from my father appeared. Emily, this has gotten out of control. Call me before you damage something important.
I read it three times.
Something important. Not my pain. Not my humiliation. Not the dinner. Not the family. The contract.
Nathan saw my expression. “What did he say?”
I handed him my phone. He read it, then carefully placed it back on the table. “There it is.”