“Actually, Daniel, I think you lost the right to decide who belongs in this house a long time ago.”
My father looked as though he had been slapped.
Then he turned to my mother.
“You don’t know what this man did.”
Mom’s face changed.
Not with fear.
With recognition.
“Is that what you’re going to say?” she asked. “After all these years?”
He swallowed.
“I was trying to protect you.”
Morgan let out a quiet, humorless laugh.
“Don’t do that.”
“Stay out of this.”
“I stayed out of it for ten years. I’m not doing that anymore.”
I looked between them.
“What is happening?”
My mother reached for my hand.
Then she looked at Morgan.
He nodded, as though they had discussed this possibility before.
My father noticed the exchange.
His face went pale.
“What did you tell her?”
Morgan answered quietly.
“The truth.”
I learned that night that the fire had not been the only disaster in our family’s life.
