Now, I didn’t need to.
I just looked at him.
Ezoic
“You punched holes in the walls,” I said.
Ezoic
“You don’t know that.”
“You left every faucet running.”
“You can’t prove—”
“And you smashed my grandmother’s mirror.”
I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t cry. I just said it. The way my father had said it in the courtroom. Plainly. Like a fact. Like wiring. This goes here.
His expression changed.
For just a second, I saw something in his face I hadn’t seen in a long time. Something almost like shame. Then it was gone, and he lowered his voice, like he was letting me in on a secret.
“It was just a mirror, Nic.”
My father stepped beside me.
He didn’t touch Brian. He didn’t get in his face. He just stood next to me, close enough that our shoulders touched.
