You told me to be quiet in front of the board wives.

My son is a laughingstock and you just walked away.

Are you going to defend those two starving, cheating nobodies?

Who even are they?”

The question set off a bomb.

I turned — I did not raise my voice, I lowered it until it was a lethal rumble that filled the cabin — and I said: “They are my sons.” The words hung there, heavy as lead.

The driver braked a fraction too hard.