Chapter 5
I decided to hide out downstairs with the children until the police had finished their business. I couldn’t bear to watch my father shrivel with humiliation before my eyes. He was my hero — the man who had bought me a cowgirl suit with cap pistols on my sixth birthday; who had wiped away my tears when the boy of my dreams jilted me for a bleach-blond cheerleader; who had walked me down the aisle, tall and proud, the day I married Paul.
When I heard the front door slam and felt my spine relax into the sofa cushions, I realized how tense I had been. But my brain still churned. What would I do if Daddy continued to insist that I not tell Mother about Georgina’s wild claims? Yet Mom had looked drained, the deep lines in her brow already reflecting the wearying burden of the mess Ge
