Reese sat in his custom wheelchair beneath the jacaranda tree, violet blooms drifting around him like a tragic snowfall. A nylon rope coiled across his torso and arms. His hands quivered, restrained by another rope looped around the chair’s metal supports. His ankles were strapped down so tightly that Calvin could see a red ring on his skin.
Talia stood beside him. Sunglasses. A magazine folded in one hand. She tapped her foot with impatient annoyance, as though bored by her own cruelty.
“You cannot cry all the time. It makes you look pathetic. Your father does not need pathetic. He needs someone who makes his life easier. You think he has time to take care of a little broken thing like you if you make it hard for him?”
Reese whimpered. It was not even a real sound. It was something smaller. A plea wrapped in fear.
Calvin’s vision blurred. His heartbeat was a roar. He stepped fully into the light.
“What do you think you are doing?”
Talia jolted as if struck. The magazine fell from her hand.