My Family Toasted

”

“As agreed.”

“Good.”

I looked at the empty chair where my brother had been.

For the first time, I did not feel the familiar urge to translate his cruelty into injury.

Maybe Preston was wounded.

Maybe he was spoiled.

Maybe both.

But explanation was not absolution.

And I was done paying emotional invoices I never approved.

Meredith was more strategic.

She did continue reading …