“No, no, no,” Jet said. “You stay, enjoy your nice family breakfast. I’ll go. I’m going.” She sniffed, wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I’m leaving. Can’t live here anymore.” “Jet, don’t say that.” Dad stepped toward her, arms open. Eyes kind, but his kind wasn’t good enough now. “I mean it, I’m not doing it. I have six days until I die, and I’m not doing that here, like this. I’m going!”
