now?”
“I want to know you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my children.”
Her expression hardened.
“We were your children twelve years ago.”
Adam lowered his head.
“Yes.”
That first meeting lasted fifty minutes.
No one hugged.
No one called him Dad.
The gift bags stayed in the counselor’s office until the end.
Andy eventually took his.
Ashton did too.
Amara left hers.
On the drive home, I expected silence.
Instead, Andy said, “He seems sad.”
Amara stared out the window.
“He should be.”
Ashton looked at both of them.
“I think both things can be true.”
I glanced at him through the mirror.
“What things?”
“He can be sorry now and still have done something terrible.”
I smiled sadly.
“That’s exactly right.”
PART NINE — KARMA DIDN’T LOOK THE WAY I EXPECTED
People sometimes imagine karma as something dramatic.
A man abandons his family, then twelve years later
