He laughs. He actually laughs. I just told my father, who has yelled at me, slapped me, and berated me for far too long I love him, and all he can do is laugh like the greatest comedian just told him their best line. This reaction should probably shatter me. It has certainly caused an effect on the other women in my room. Mrs. Santiago looks almost broken, and Cassie is five shades of red to the point of exploding.
But for some reason, this reaction doesn't upset me. Maybe it's the trauma of his abuse that expected this. Maybe it's how the ice that froze me mere minutes ago has now started to boil. Or maybe this reaction has broken me, just not in the way I thought it would.
As the thought comes to mind, something snaps within me, and I start to giggle, chuckle even. It's not like my fat
