“Because facts are all I have left that he can’t twist,” I replied, my voice trembling slightly as the adrenaline rush began to recede, leaving my limbs feeling hollow and weak. I sank back against the hospital pillows, pulling the thin sheet over my lap. “Dad, when he mentioned the lawyers… when he looked at Owen like he was a prize to be won and Harper like an administrative error… I felt like I was back in that kitchen six months ago, trying to figure out why our savings account was bleeding out.”
My father walked over to the bed, pulling up a chair and sitting down. He didn’t offer a platitude. He didn’t tell me it was all going to be fine or that Garrett would magically see the light. He simply reached out and placed his large, warm hand over mine.
