“We gave you a life,” my mother wept, and I noticed how carefully she wept — how her eyes moved to the neighboring tables to check that they were watching.
“We raised you.
And you humiliate us over a cruise?”
“You humiliated yourselves,” I said, “the moment you decided my worth was the size of my bank balance.
Now, if you’ll excuse me — I have a reservation at the steakhouse on Deck 15, and the wine pairing starts in ten minutes.”
I picked up my clutch and walked past them, and my father’s hand shot out to grab my arm.
I stopped.
I turned my head toward him, and I let my voice drop into something very quiet.
“Touch me,” I said, “and I will have ship security void your bands entirely.
I hold the master booking, Chester.