The General Didn’t Look At My Sister

“No,” she said.

Our mother stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“She comes with us.”

“After what’s happened, that would be inappropriate.”

Abigail’s face changed then. Not sweet. Not practiced. Army.

“Emma comes with us.”

Simple.

Flat.

My mother looked to my father for backup. He stared at the tablecloth.

Useless at last.

I picked up my briefcase.

When we stepped back into continue reading …