Mom tried to speak again, her voice trembling.
“Felix, we can talk about this privately. There’s no need to drag the whole family into it.”
“Why not?” I asked. “You didn’t mind dragging me in front of everyone when Dad made that little joke about how I should work harder so Lucas could get better gifts.”
Dad’s face darkened.
“That was just a joke.”
“It wasn’t funny,” I said quietly.
No one said anything for a long moment.
The ticking clock in the hallway sounded like a metronome, keeping time for our collective discomfort.
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope.
Plain, white, unmarked.
Mom’s eyes flicked to it immediately.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“The truth,” I said, setting it on the coffee table. “Since everyone seems so invested in pretending this is all just a misunderstanding.”
Melissa rolled her eyes.
