“My son! My son—help him. Please.” And then, “I can’t live without him. Not my son—he can’t do this to me.” It wasn’t some grand hurtful thing, and it would take more than a few sessions of therapy to understand it, but his screams haunted me. I’d never seen my dad upset or afraid before. And when I was at the peak of my fear, the calm, steady presence of my father wasn’t there—just panic. So I chose to keep everything to myself. Because I love my dad, and I never wanted to hear him like that again.
