A Suitcase of Promises: How I Sold My Father’s Hope for Peace

the edge of the table. “And he didn’t.”

My daughter frowned. “Why would you tell him that?”

My son’s eyes narrowed. “Because you wanted him to stop fighting.”

It wasn’t a question.

My wife stared at her plate.

I swallowed. “Because I was scared,” I said. “Because I was tired. Because I thought it would be easier.”

My daughter’s face crumpled. “That’s so continue reading …