“I heard what Mom said.”
She had my water bottle in one hand and the little yellow instant camera I had given her for Christmas hanging from her wrist.
“You forgot this,” she said.
“Thank you.”
She sat beside me without asking. She was twelve, old enough to notice tension, but she still tried to ignore it whenever it popped up.
Then she said, “I heard what Mom said.”
“What did your dad do?”
I turned to her.
“What did you hear?”
She swallowed.
“The part about immediate family.”
I asked, “What did your dad do after I left?”
She looked down at the camera.