You Are My Daughter
She called the grandchildren forward one at a time, by name, savoring each one.
“This big one is for you, Mason,” she announced, and the oldest cousin tore into the paper and came up with a gleaming new tablet, and squealed.
There was nothing wrong with the gifts themselves, and I want to be clear about that; the other children were not villains and there was no reason they should not enjoy their presents.
The wrong was never in what the others received.