My Daughter Brought Home a Pale, Tattooed Goth Boy, and My Husband Immediately Told Him to Leave – Then the Boy Placed His Phone on the Table, and My Husband Went Even Paler
That’s why he can’t see you.” He paused. “You look so much like her… and him.”
“Did you ever tell him you helped my mom?”
I stared at Daniel.
I loved my husband. But in all our time together, I’d never known him to be such a… coward.
“Evan, you need to go,” Daniel repeated.
“No,” I said.
Daniel’s face hardened. “We can’t just put them in a room together and hope everyone comes out okay. Didn’t you hear what I said about Mark?”
I’d never known him to be such a… coward.
I turned to Evan.
“You can go if you want to, Evan. You can hide upstairs until Mark leaves. That’s your choice to make, but you…” I turned back to Daniel. “You’ve spent nearly twenty years avoiding one uncomfortable sentence.”
Daniel stared at me. “What sentence?”
“The one where you tell Mark what you actually think of
what he did.”
Daniel never got the chance to answer me.
The doorbell rang.
“You’ve spent nearly twenty years avoiding one uncomfortable sentence.”
Nobody moved.
A few seconds later, it rang again.
Daniel looked at Evan.
Then at me.
I nodded.
Finally, he walked into the hallway and opened it.
The doorbell rang.
Mark came in holding a red plastic tool case.
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was—”
He broke off when he saw Evan.
The tool case lowered slightly in his hand.
Mark’s face looked strange. Confused first.
Then frightened.
He broke off when he saw Evan.
“Who… are you?”
Evan’s jaw clenched. I watched him stand, watched his hands curl into fists at his sides, and knew Evan was going to face this head-on.
“My name is Evan. My mother was Claire.”
The tool case hit the floor.
Evan was going to face this head-on.
My daughter flinched.
Mark
