I stood before Father, waiting for him to turn his page and see me. When he did, I stuttered, “Father … Mo … Mo … Mother stabbed me.” He didn’t even raise an eyebrow. “Why?” he asked. “She told me if I didn’t do the dishes on time, she … she’d kill me.” Time stood still. From behind the paper I could hear Father’s labored breathing. He cleared his throat before saying, “Well … you ah … you better go back in there and do the dishes.”
