My Family Toasted

“Mara, please.”

“I can’t fix Dad’s reaction for you.”

“He’s your father.”

“Yes.”

“And I’m your mother.”

“Yes.”

“Does that mean nothing?”

There it was.

The old trap.

If you will not rescue us, you do not love us.

I looked through the office window at the warehouse floor, where Elena was already talking to supervisors.

“It means something,” I said. “It does not continue reading …