Maya
I stood at the threshold of my father’s hospital room, watching David sit beside the bed and bombard him with questions.
My father kept assuring David that he was capable of answering, but as time went on, David’s questions became increasingly insensitive. Borderline insulting, actually.
“How is it even possible that you’re not the one responsible when the entire project was handed over to you?” David asked with this accusatory tone. “Aren’t you supposed to be in charge of absolutely everything?”
“Quit being stupid, David,” I said from the doorway. “Those are literally the worst questions to ask anyone. Just shut up already.”
“Oh, shut the hell up yourself,” he rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’re better off picking unwanted children from trash dumps than being here.”
“Don’t ca
