By the time I was fifteen, Lila and I had learned how to argue without mentioning the things we were really afraid of.
"You don't have to come to the board dinner," she said.
"I want to."
"You hate those dinners."
"I don't hate them."
"You do. You told me."
"I said I hate the tiny food."
She folded her arms. "You don't have to prove you belong."
"I'm not proving anything."
"Then don't come."
The dinner was being held at the Vale hotel, where Graham had asked the foundation board to review the trust terms. He wanted the trust to let Lila use the house without tying her future to the family business. Elaine opposed the change. She said Graham was making a permanent decision for a child.
Lila didn't want me at the dinner because she worried I'd become the subject of another polite
