So I wanted them to see it.

I wanted them to see the real family you walked out on.” She gestured, without unkindness, toward Gregory and his silent, staring relatives.

Laura wheeled toward me in desperation.

“Say something, Thomas!” she cried.

“Tell her this isn’t the whole story!

Tell them!” And I stood there, and I looked at her, and I said, “You’re right.

It isn’t the whole story.” For half a second something like hope crossed her face, the foolish expectation that I was about to defend her.

“The whole story,” I said, “is worse.