5. Father Daughter Road Trip
Mina
With Aldo gone, Dad moved his toolkit to let me sit up front. Not sure that I still wanted to, I did, mostly for the best view of where we were going.
Dad started the car and turned us back toward the highway.
The tomato field sped by.
“So…” he said.
I said nothing.
“I imagine you have some questions.”
“You explained your logic perfectly well,” I said. “You don’t need to go over it again.”
“I didn’t mean questions about espionage.”
“I always have questions. You always have secrets. Why don’t you tell me what’s changed that you suddenly want to talk about?”
“I meant questions about… yourself.”
“What about myself?”
“You… ah. He didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?” I asked, even as a few of the thoughts Aldo had shared began to resurface and expand
