A few months ago, I had found their address and gotten a taxi to their house. I had stood outside the gate for several minutes before retreating. I had wanted to barge in on them and tell them they were being ridiculous. That they were horrible for treating their own son like this. I hated them for making him feel like he was unlovable. They had hurt him, in more ways than James would ever admit. But my telling them that wasn't going to help. They didn't respect me, so they wouldn't care about my opinions. I couldn't force it.
