“Why?”
“Because parents are not always rational.”
“I was an adult.”
“To me, you were still mine.”
Clara watched us.
Mother turned toward her.
“And that fear cost you.”
Clara’s eyes filled.
Mother continued before she could respond.
“I never told Thomas not to see you. But I did ask him to move slowly. I told him Bennett should be protected from the disruption until we understood what Miriam wanted.”
“You weren’t protecting me,” I said.
“No.”
Mother squeezed my hand.
“I was protecting myself and using you as the reason.”
The honesty hurt.
But unlike the earlier revelations, it did not feel like betrayal.
It felt like truth.
Messy.
Late.
Necessary.
Clara asked, “Did my mother know you felt that way?”
“Yes.”
“Was she angry?”
“At first.”
Mother smiled.
“She told me I was being selfish.”
“I can hear her saying that.”
“So can I.”
“What happened?”
