The Gift Wrapped in Brown Paper
So I stayed in my seat with my heart going like a fist against my ribs, and I let him walk, and I have never in my life been so frightened and so certain at the same time.
Kingston smirked.
“Well — looks like my son has something to say.” He said it to the room, playing it for the crowd, certain of a sweet moment he could use.
Otis stopped in front of him and held out his hand.
“Can I use the microphone, Dad?” Kingston handed it over, still amused, waiting for a child’s toast, the kind of thing that would make him look even better.
Otis took the microphone.