played with me?”
“Probably, sweetheart.”
I’d removed the photo to spare her pain, never considering what my silence taught her. I called.
“Mom?”
“I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry.”
She listened quietly while I admitted how difficult it was to hear that we’d made her feel excluded.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
“I’d still like to hear the rest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Come for dinner tomorrow. We can talk properly.”
After a pause, she agreed. The manuscript rested on the passenger seat. I wasn’t done reading Arthur’s words,
