My father was reading The Financial Journal in the room he shared with my mother. My body tingled. I shook with rage.

"Get out," I said. I never explained. He knew I knew by looking at my face.

He seemed relieved. My mother's fake illness wasn't causing him stress; it was his terrible lie. He forced me to sell to save his incompetent business.

I hated him more than ever in that moment. I don't know what I would have done if Luke had a gun.

I trembled as he packed his few belongings and left. Not long. Finally, he stood before me.

"Joyce."

I told him, "Don't contact me...