I wanted answers, but she looked exhausted.
So I helped her into the car and drove us home.
I want to file a complaint.
***
She didn't say a word the entire way.
“Mom, say something.”
“Just drive, Claire.”
“You know that man, don't you?”
“Please. Not now.”
She looked exhausted.
I waited until we got home.
“Who were those children?”
“Your father had that locket. I found it among his things.”
“Why bring it shopping?”
“I meant to show you.”
Not now.
“Then show me.”
“It's not important anymore.”
“A stranger started crying when he saw it!”
“I don't know why.”
“You're lying.”
Your father had that locket.
“Please don't make an old woman defend every memory.”
That silenced me.
But something was wrong.
And for the first time, I suspected my parents had kept a secret from me.
“I'm staying tonight,” I told Mom.
You're lying.
“I'm perfectly capable of being alone.”
