I closed my eyes.
“Why did you tell me she stole from us?”
He sighed. “I needed you to stop looking for her.”
“Why?”
“Because she was going to turn your life upside down, while I was the one raising you.”
“So was she!”
He went quiet.
I closed my eyes.
“You told me my mother was dead.”
“I thought it was simpler, George.”
“Simple for whom?”
He didn’t answer.
Finally, he said, “I was scared she’d take you.”
“Did she ever threaten to?”
“No.”
“Then you weren’t protecting me. You were protecting yourself.”
Silence.
“Simple for whom?”
Then Dad’s voice got louder.
“Don’t tell me how to raise you!”
“Turning to that script again, aren’t we? You know I’m not a little child anymore, right?”
He kept quiet.
I asked about the missing money again.
More silence; this time, I knew what it meant.
