TWENTY-SEVEN

NEITHER OF MY PARENTS BLINKED.

My mother’s voice shook. “What—what are you doing here?”

“I came to see my . . . our son. I apologize for barging in on you unannounced.” My father gulped. “I was just leaving.”

“You are?” I said. “Already?”

He leaned toward me and whispered. “I have to. If you only knew the danger I’ve put us in today—I don’t have a choice.”

I let him hug me, then squared my shoulders. “You do have a choice. Don’t run off like this, Dad—not again.” I looked toward my mother, her bottom lip quivering. “She deserves a better goodbye. An honest one this time.”

Mom furrowed her brow in pained confusion. My father squinted the same way I always did when battling an emotional lump in my throat.

He gave me a single nod.

And with that, I walked away, past my mother and out the front door, so my parents could finally be alone. Together, after having been torn apart for a lifetime.