He Mocked Me at My 30th Birthday — But I Had House Keys in My Pocket and a Secret He’d Buried for Years

halfway down the table.

Dad dropped his voice, trying to shrink the conversation back to size.

“Okay. So where?”

Before I could answer, a voice came from the far end of the table. Calm, clear, unhurried.

“Gerald.”

Aunt Donna.

She sat with her hands folded on the table, her purse open beside her plate.

“While we’re clearing things up tonight,” she said, “I continue reading …