I thought I knew.
I cooked their favorites: garlic chicken and buttery mashed potatoes.
Chris dropped by with a cake and hugged them both. Andrea called too, like she did every birthday. When Chris left, he wouldn't meet my eyes.
That should've warned me.
***
After dinner, Emily set down her fork.
I cooked their favorites.
"Dad, we need to get something."
Grace stood too quickly.
They went upstairs together.
I listened to their footsteps.
When they came back, each carried one of the old towels.
"We need to get something."
My chair scraped the floor as I stood.
"What are those doing out?"
Emily laid the white towel on the table. Grace placed the pink one beside it.
"Dad," Emily said, "please don't hate us for what you're about to see."
"Hate you? Why would I hate you?"
Grace's chin trembled.
"What are those doing out?"
"For three years, we've been lying to you," Grace said.
