The Man Who Raised Me
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I asked.
My voice was not quite steady.
“Because I wanted to see what she was planning first,” Samantha said.
“I wanted to know what story she was going to tell before I decided what to do about it.” “And now?” I asked.
She looked at me, and there was no anger in her face, only a clear, settled certainty.
“And now,” she said, “I know exactly who she is.
I know what she’s going to do at my wedding, and I know the story she’s going to tell, and I am not going to stand there and let her tell it.