“Because you’re my daughter,” he said. “And sometimes knowing that you can handle things doesn’t stop a father from making the wrong choice for the right reason.”
I stood there with my arms crossed.
I wanted to stay mad at him. I really did. But it’s hard to stay mad at someone who looks at you like that.
I sat down beside him.
“What else is there?” I asked.
He hesitated.
“Dad.”
Ezoic
“There was a second call.”
Ezoic
I stared at him.
“What did he say?”
Dad looked toward the courtroom doors. Through the little glass window, I could see Brian sitting at his table with his head in his hands, and Pruitt leaning over him, talking fast.
“He asked me to lie,” Dad said.
“About what?”
“The mirror.”
My chest tightened.
Brian knew my grandmother had given the mirror to my father first. That it had passed to Dad when she died, and then Dad had given it to me. Brian knew that, because I’d told him. That Christmas. The night he held my hand and said it was beautiful.
