“I would’ve liked to know,” my dad says just as quietly. “It would’ve meant something to me.” “We didn’t grow up together,” Farrow reminds him. “Neither did me and my brother. I met Ryke the day I turned twenty-one.” Realizations wash over me about the same time that Farrow’s expression changes shape. I think we’re both understanding just how much this would’ve meant something to my dad. He loves Ryke to his deepest, rawest core, and I wonder if he’s reevaluated everything Farrow has ever said about Donnelly.
