Chapter 14

My father won’t look at me. That’s the first sign. He’s at the kitchen sink when I walk in, rinsing a mug that’s already clean, shoulders hunched like he’s bracing for an impact that hasn’t hit yet. The TV in the living room is on mute, some cable news anchor’s mouth moving soundlessly. The only real noise is the wet scrape of ceramic and his thoughts, fluttering at the edge of my mind like trapped birds. Don’t do this. Not tonight. Please just let it go. “Hey, Dad.” My...