“You know how it starts. You know he always says he has it under control, but he doesn’t.” My gaze must be sharper than I intend because you wince. “And he’s not the only one without control. Anytime he drinks someone gets hurt.” We both know I’m not just talking about us and Mom. Kate. Joan. Monica. You don’t say anything. But you don’t move either. We sit together like that until my eyelids get heavy. Until I fall asleep.
