I was chopping vegetables when my four-year-old daughter

“You are embarrassing yourself.”

“No,” Andrew says again, louder now. “I think I’ve been embarrassing myself for years.”

The receptionist quietly picks up the phone.

Diane notices.

Her wounded mask slips completely.

“You ungrateful boy,” she says.

Emma starts crying into my shoulder.

Andrew hears it, and whatever is left of his doubt breaks.

He reaches for continue reading …