"Wendy is not a child like Gianna, can't you see the difference after all those years, Smith?" Mom says, shifting her focus on Dad who still has that furious look on his face. "Gianna passed away at ten, but our daughter has lived up to eighteen on her own! We were never there for her but look how she's still grown up into such a thoughtful person. She's a strong and independent adult now, what more challenges does she have to endure on her own for you to know that she's not a child like Gianna? For how long do you expect me to keep my distance from her when she might be leaving us at any time to go to college? How long, Smith?"
My Dad tilts his head, put his shaky hands over his mouth for a minute. He looks at my Mom, then me, and then back to my Mom as his expression softens. "Penelope,
