are like that.”
“I didn’t say they were,” I lied, because I did mean it, and we both knew it.
Rachel said, “Dad, what if she wants to go?”
The question stopped me.
Because I realized—with a strange nausea—that nobody had asked Martha what she wanted in a long time. Not the social worker. Not Erin. Not me.
We’d all been talking around her like she was furniture.continue reading …