Mom started crying again, but it was different now.
Less sadness, more panic.
“He didn’t mean it. Felix, please don’t twist his words.”
But I wasn’t listening anymore.
It was like something inside me had gone cold.
All the little comments over the years about how Lucas was too sensitive, how I shouldn’t spoil him, how some kids just aren’t cut out for fancy things, they all clicked into place.
They didn’t just think less of me.
They thought less of him.
And suddenly I realized I didn’t even want to be standing in that house anymore.
I turned toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Dad demanded.
“Home,” I said.
“You’re not walking out on your family.”
I turned back to him slowly.
“You’re not my family anymore.”
Melissa gasped like I just cursed at the Pope.
“Oh, come on, Felix. Don’t be dramatic. You’re just upset.”
