The parole board asked me to appear in person.
I received the notice in the mail three weeks before the hearing. I called the liaison and confirmed I would speak. I did not tell Claire until that night.
She was working on the bakery's monthly accounts. I waited until she finished a row of numbers.
"I'll be at the hearing," I said.
She capped her pen. "Okay."
"I want you there."
"I'll be there."
"I don't know what you'll say."
"I don't either."
I nodded, but the answer made my stomach turn. "If you tell them you support him, I can't stand beside you."
"I understand."
"You don't know what I mean."
"Then tell me."
"I mean I can't go home and pretend it didn't happen. I can't let him come here and act like everything's normal. I can't work beside him in the bakery."
"I would neve
