I knew that look as well.
“Answer carefully,” Dad said.
Chloe swallowed.
“No.”
The word was barely audible.
Mom stood.
“This conversation is over.”
Nora remained seated.
“You’re free to leave.
Clara’s copy of the petition stays here.”
Dad pointed at the folder.
“That’s a family document.”
“It’s a court filing about me,” I said.
It was the first time I had interrupted him.
He turned toward me slowly.
I expected to feel stronger.
Instead, I felt sick.
Courage, I discovered, could feel almost exactly like terror.
“You think you understand what’s going on?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“But I’m going to.”
Nora opened a second folder.
“The property is another matter.”
Mom sat down again.
That told me something.
They could endure being exposed as liars.
They could not endure leaving before the house was discussed.
My parents had always talked about Grandpa as though he were poor.
