When the Colonel Came to the Estate

The sentence cost me more than it appeared to.

June was not a bargaining chip; she was a boundary.

Still, saying it aloud made my chest feel hollow.

Margaret looked at Wesley, waiting for him to rescue her.

He did not.

“Mom,” he said, “sign it.”

Her eyes shone then, though whether from anger or hurt I could not tell.

“You would choose her over me?”

Wesley’s shoulders dropped, as if the question had finally become too old to carry.

“I am choosing my wife and daughter. That should never have been presented as choosing against you.”

Several relatives looked down.

I wondered how many had been forced into similar choices over the years, smaller but just as exhausting.

Margaret picked up the sheet and read it with exaggerated slowness.

“This is punishment.”

“It is a map,” Dana said. “People who want peace usually appreciate maps.”

To my surprise, a laugh came from the corner.