The room chilled.
“No,” I said. “He made sure your mother didn’t know. You made sure you didn’t.”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“I was influenced by him my whole life.”
“I know.”
“He taught me to doubt weakness, to protect command, to avoid emotional traps.”
“I know.”
“He told me you were unstable. He said you’d ruin everything.”
“I know.”
My calm unsettled him more than anger would have.
“And then you chose to believe him,” I said.
Daniel’s mouth closed.
Margaret rose.
“Your father has much to answer for in whatever world he inhabits,” she said. “But you signed the divorce affidavit. You refused her calls. You requested correspondence be returned. You told me Kesha fabricated the pregnancy after the court date. Your father may have built the house, Daniel, but you lived in it willingly.”
The children had gone quiet.
Too quiet.
I hated that this truth was unfolding in front of them.
