“No,” I said. “You’re my daughter.”
A tiny, miserable smile appeared and vanished.
“I pushed inside. He told me to leave. I told him I wasn’t leaving until he looked me in the face and explained why you meant so little to him.”
My throat tightened.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
Of course.
Elise swallowed. “He walked toward the kitchen. He was holding the wall.”
I pictured it without wanting to. Randall’s hand on unfamiliar drywall. Randall trying to make weakness look casual.
“He said he had the flu. Or maybe food poisoning. I don’t remember which because I was yelling over him. Then he…” She stopped.
Jonah crouched beside her. His anger had gone quiet now. “Then he what?”
“He folded.”
The word sat between us.
Elise pressed both hands together until her knuckles whitened. “Not completely. He caught himself on the wall. But his knees went, and for a second he was down against it. I saw the hospital band because his sleeve pulled up.”
