“Let’s go.” It’s a plea. A plea for him to let me leave, get out of here, not endure this new drama. “Absolutely not.” “Why not?” I say, the whine evident in my voice. “You said we could skip it before.” His face is granite when he speaks. “I changed my mind. You need to be here to show your face. You deserve to be here more than anyone else as his daughter. Don’t let this game get to you. Let it help you win. Don’t let them think they won, that you ran off with your tail between your legs.” I stare at him, really seeing him, and in there, I see anger—not at me, but for me. “I don’t care,
...more
