mouth, but before she could answer, we heard his voice.
“LINDA!”
My father was standing in the kitchen doorway. I had no idea how long he had been listening. His face was unusually cold.
“I asked you not to talk about this.”
My mother lowered her head.
“Robert, she’s a grown woman now. She has a right to know.”
My father approached the table.
“Not today.”
I stood up.
“Dad, what are you hiding from me?”He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked toward the door and turned the key. The