The Man Who Raised Me
Samantha looked at me, steady and unblinking.
“What she did was ugly,” she said.
“The box isn’t ugly.
The box is just proof.
There’s a difference, Dad, and you’ve spent fifteen years confusing the two.” “This is your wedding,” I argued, “not a courtroom.” “She’s the one putting you on trial,” Samantha countered, without missing a beat.
“She has been for fifteen years.
She just does it where you can’t hear her.”
I stood up and gripped the back of a dining chair, because I needed something to hold.