Hue remained silent, staring at the ground, as if he did not want to be part of that confrontation, as if he had already experienced it before.
My mother stared at me, and for a moment I saw something different in her eyes, something more tired, heavier than I remembered.
“There are things you don’t know,” he finally said. “Things I did so that you could be where you are now.”
Those words made me doubt, even though I didn’t want to, because they appealed to something deep, to an emotional debt that I couldn’t easily measure.
“Don’t change the subject,” I replied. “I’m talking about Hue.”
She sighed, as if I were the one who didn’t understand, as if I were failing to see something important.
