“You know what’s not fair? Mom telling me I should dress differently my whole life. Me and my friends worrying about some jerk attacking us when we’re just out living our lives. Me having to be a girl because no one ever told me there were other options.” The words roll out of me, an avalanche flattening everything in their path. “You’re not perfect either, Dad. You never told her to stop using my given name when you both know I hate it. You didn’t stop her when she walked out. You didn’t stop me when I left.” Tears slide down my cheeks. “Tara shouldn’t have died. You shouldn’t need the
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