My Family Toasted

small but tasteful country.

I sat still.

Sixty-eight million dollars.

That number was familiar.

Too familiar.

Dad raised both hands. “Now, now. We’ll talk details later. But I want to make something clear tonight, in front of everyone.”

The air changed again.

My father turned toward me.

“Mara,” he said.

I looked at him.

My name sounded wrong in his mouth. Like continue reading …