“I shouldn’t have brought him up.”
“Too late,” I said.
“Sarah, not here.”
“Then where?”
My mother looked past me toward the reception area, where people in suits and graduation gowns moved beneath strings of red and white balloons.
“Dinner,” she said. “Come to dinner, and I’ll explain.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Please.”
“No,” I repeated. “I’m not going to sit through a celebration where everyone pretends this is a normal family moment while you decide how much truth I deserve.”
Her eyes filled at last.
“Then coffee,” she said. “Tomorrow morning. Just you and me.”
The request surprised me.
My father looked surprised too.
Derek watched me carefully.
I wanted to refuse. Every instinct built from years of disappointment told me not to step back into the old room, not to sit across from her and offer another chance to minimize what she had done.
