“You’ll ruin us.”
My hand was on the knob.
“You’ll ruin your father.”
I opened the door.
“You’ll ruin Eric.”
I turned around.
Eric stood in the kitchen doorway, pale and useless and maybe not as useless as I’d thought. Dad stood behind him with both arms crossed. Mom stood two feet from me, mascara gathered in one clump under her left eye.
“You used my name,continue reading …
