Chapter 8
The real explosion happened in the parking lot.
Dad was walking toward his old pickup when Stephen called after him.
“Thomas.”
Dad turned.
Stephen looked uncomfortable, but not ashamed.
“You should understand Caroline was trying to protect Emma’s image.”
Dad nodded slowly.
“My daughter’s image survived my suit.”
I smiled.
Stephen frowned.
Richard stepped forward.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Playing poor wounded father?”
Dad said nothing.
I moved beside him.
Richard pointed at me.
“You have no idea what he cost your mother.”
My mother snapped, “Richard, enough.”
“No,” he said. “She wants truth? Tell her.”
Dad’s face tightened.
My stomach twisted.
“What truth?”
Mom looked panicked now.
“Not here.”
Richard laughed.
“Oh, now you’re embarrassed?”
Dad turned to my mother.
“Caroline.”
His voice was warning.
Not afraid.
Warning.
I looked between them.
“What is he talking about?”
Richard smiled cruelly.
“Ask your saintly father why he lost everything.”
I already knew the story.
Or I thought I did.
Dad’s business failed.
Debt.
Divorce.
Mom had “saved me” from poverty.
That was the version I grew up hearing.
Dad looked at me.
“Emma, not today.”
May you like
I stepped back.
“No. Today.”
