hid in the closet with the light out, crouched on the floor. My father followed me and found me there, like I hoped he would. “Hey, Lis,” he said. He’d crouched down beside me for a while, and then pulled me up. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, you know. When you were younger.” “It’s okay,” I said, too fast. “I’ll love you until the cows come home,” he said.
