I stared at the screen.
That explained everything.
My daughter hadn’t been seated separately because the dining room was crowded.
She’d been deliberately hidden from guests.
That night, I stood outside Luna’s bedroom for a long time, listening to her peaceful breathing.
I knew something had to change.
Over the next three days, my mother called repeatedly.
I didn’t answer.
Ainsley envió un mensaje irritado.
“¿Estás seriamente molesto por una silla?”
Then Dad left a voicemail.
“Wes, call me back. We need to get Christmas settled.”
Casi lo borré.
Pero cuando escuché, algo inesperado sucedió.
Dad apparently forgot to end the call.
The recording continued.
I heard Ainsley’s voice in the background.
“He’ll show up. He always does. He’ll complain for a few days and then bring the turkey.”
Then she asked Dad whether he’d obtained some documents.
My father said they were in his briefcase.
