There Would Be Food Tomorrow

And I brought my palm down on the table so hard the lamps jumped.

“Do not,” I said, “tell her to be quiet.”

Chapter 17 — You Don’t Get to Play the Victim

My mother stared at me as though she no longer recognized her own son.

And Maya, standing straight now, kept going.

“You told me every single day,” she said to Evelyn, “that I had to save every penny, because Dad was tired of spending money on me.

You told me I was a burden.” “I said that so you would learn discipline!” Evelyn claimed.