Dad stared at the table.
“Ethan believes he must impress people to deserve their admiration.
Madison believes humor can protect her from ever admitting she is hurt.
And you, Claire, believe independence means never asking anyone to understand you.”
I stopped.
Ethan leaned back.
“Wow.”
Madison pointed at the letter.
“She could have softened mine.”
Dad almost smiled.
I continued.
“None of you are entirely wrong about yourselves.
That is what makes these habits so difficult.
Claire, secrecy is sometimes part of your profession.
Silence is not.
Those are different things.”
I read the sentence twice in my head before saying it aloud.
Something inside me resisted it.
Because Mom was right.
I had spent years telling myself I could not discuss my work.
That was true.
But I could have discussed loneliness.
I could have said, Dad, that joke hurts.
I could have told Ethan I felt invisible when Dad praised his service while dismissing mine.
