“How did it feel?” I say, softening as shame fills me. I think of the luncheon, charities set up to protect families like mine. “When he hit you?” She takes a step back, ready to run. It’s a question I never asked, didn’t dare to. Hearing the truth would have changed Papa in my eyes into a man I couldn’t conceive. Even as I saw him beat them, I convinced myself that wasn’t really him. It was a mirage fueled by anger or disappointment and maybe, maybe it was just as much their fault as it was his. If only they could be more of what he wanted, needed, then they too would be safe.
Siblings
