Chapter 14 - The Last Family Photograph
Dad asked us to come to the Greenwich estate one final time before Mom moved the rest of her belongings out.
I almost said no.
Sienna wanted to go.
“I don’t want the last memory of that house to be my party.”
So we went.
The pool was covered for fall.
The enormous white tent was gone.
No DJ.
No photographers.
Just four people standing around a kitchen island where Mom used to help us decorate Christmas cookies.
Dad placed an old family photograph on the counter.
It had been taken the year after the fire.
Mom and Dad stood together.
Sienna was between them.
I stood behind everyone wearing a cardigan despite the July heat.
“I thought I was protecting you,” Dad said.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I believed it.”
“I believe you.”
He looked relieved too quickly.
“That doesn’t mean it was true.”
His relief disappeared.
Mom picked up the photograph.
“I should have protected her from you.”
Dad flinched.
Sienna stared at the image.
“And I learned from both of you that Elena was the family problem.”
No one corrected her.
She tore the photograph once through the middle.
I stopped her before she tore it again.
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because pretending it didn’t happen is what got us here.”
I took both halves.
Dad asked whether I would ever forgive him.
“I don’t know.”
It was not the answer he wanted.
It was the first one I owed him nothing for.
When we left, Dad remained alone in the kitchen.
Mom did not look back.
Outside, Sienna reached for my hand.
I did not take it immediately.
May you like
She waited.
Eventually, I did.
