~ Carl ~
“What’s this about?” I demand. My father’s taken it upon himself to invite the younger KavAbigh sibling and myself into his office. Invite is too polite a word, but little KavAbigh doesn’t know that. Coerce is more like it… the softening of the voice, slowing of speech as a means of calming or subduing, much as he used to do to lure me into a conversation about one of my many juvenile f**k-ups. In short, this can’t be good, but I don’t care. I stiffen immediately, my body responding to what may ultimately prove to be an unfounded accusation, unfounded as I have little contact with the other to-be-accused. Ethan has taken one of the seats opposite the desk and Dad is in his high-back desk chair. I remember too many times spent in my youth on the side of this desk, not one of th
