I sniffle, but he's lost in thought now, talking openly, and I try not to make too much sound. Even though it pains me to hear this, I feel like he needs to say it. So I try to keep quiet so that he doesn't remember I am there.
" Yesterday I lost it. When we went inside, I asked where he was, and she showed me her ribs. I wasn't there, he had never hit her before. At least not what I know of. Apparently they had a fight and they were both drunk. There was no shock there. They always fought. I used to lock myself in my room when they did as I got older, and he knew I could whoop him if he started anything. They did it when I was out. But I always knew they had fought because it would be silent, thick with tension in the house. Dad stopped taking his anger out on me physically. By the time
