may not bring the kids for Christmas.”
There it was.
The lever.
Vanessa had discovered it years earlier.
Our father could tolerate almost any inconvenience, any insult, any awkward family situation, but not the possibility of losing access to his grandchildren.
She knew it.
He knew she knew it.
And still, every time she pulled that lever, he acted surprised that the machine moved.
I closed my eyes.
“All right.”
“Daniela—”Soil
“No. It’s okay.”
“I don’t want you thinking I don’t care.”
I looked at the fourteen centerpieces waiting
