“Crystal,” she said, “tell him it’s okay.” “That what’s okay?” I asked. “That it’s okay to go.” I shook my head. “No,” I said. “No no no no.” My sisters started urging me, too. My mother was begging me to say it. I think she thought it needed to come from me—his youngest daughter. “Tell him, tell him,” they all kept saying. “Tell him it’s okay.” I didn’t want to tell him that. It was not okay. But finally, I said it.
