“It’s not your job to fill in for your father.” Father. She said the word with such disgust now, so much conviction in it that guilt stormed me for the part of me that still loved him, that wanted to forgive him even when I knew I shouldn’t, even when his transgressions couldn’t have been more black and white. “I’m not filling in. I’m being a part of the family. So let me.” She stared at me for a long time in silence, and I knew she was trying to muster up some reason not to take the money. But we both knew I was right. At last she sighed, drumming her fingertips over the envelope. “All
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