His eyes flickered.
“The trust.”
I waited.
“And the affair.”
There it was.
Ugly and small.
“Valerie said Sarah swerved on her own,” Dad whispered. “She said she panicked and left because she thought no one would believe her.”
“And you believed her?”
“I wanted to.”
I stared at him.
He had finally said something true.
Not noble.
Not excusable.
True.
“You wanted to,” I repeated.
He nodded.
“I had already lost your mother. I couldn’t face that I might have—”
“Helped kill her?”
He recoiled.
“I didn’t kill Sarah.”
“No. You just protected the woman who may have caused the crash.”
He began to cry.
I thought it would make me feel powerful.
It didn’t.
It made me tired.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope.
“I canceled the wedding.”
Grandma said, “Did you?”
Dad’s eyes shifted.
Grandma caught it immediately.
“You didn’t cancel it.”
“I told Valerie we needed to postpone.”
“That is not canceled.”
“She’s threatening me.”
I almost smiled.
Of course she was.
“With what?” Grandma asked.
Dad looked at me.
“Everything.”
Grandma crossed her arms.
“Be specific.”
Dad took a breath.