You erased him.
You took me out of that house in Maryland, buried your credentials in an oiled tin box beneath a garden nursery, and spent two decades pretending that our entire existence could be reduced to pruning shears and Sunday dinners.”
“I gave you a life,” I said.“A real one.
One where nobody checked the underside of your car for magnetic mercury switches before you drove to school.”
“You gave me a cage!” she snarled, her fingers curling into tight, white-knuckled fists against the bedsheet.“You built a tiny, pathetic world and forced me to live in it so you could sleep at night without seeing the bodies you left behind from Berlin to Beirut.
You thought I was weak.
You looked at me every day and saw an ordinary, fragile girl who needed her mother to protect her from the wind.”
She leaned in closer, until I could see the tiny flecks of amber in her pale eyes.
