Not anger.
Something more permanent.
Understanding.
“You weren’t protecting me.”
Dad opened his mouth.
Clare shook her head.
“You were punishing her.”
Silence.
“And you used me to do it.”
Margaret stepped forward.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
Clare turned toward her.
“No, Margaret.”
Her voice became colder.
“You don’t get to rescue him.”
Margaret stopped.
Clare reached beneath the podium again.
This time she removed a small stack of papers.
My father went pale.
“What are those?”
Clare looked at him.
“You know what they are.”
David moved closer.
Dad stood again.
“Give those to me.”
“No.”
“Clare.”
“No.”
His voice sharpened.
“I paid for this wedding.”
There it was.
The leash.
In front of everyone.
Clare stared at him.
Then something extraordinary happened.
She smiled.
“I know.”
Dad hesitated.
“And tomorrow morning, every dollar you contributed is being returned.”
Margaret gasped.
Richard leaned forward.
“What?”
David picked up the microphone.
