Chapter 10: The Story About the Brakes

Dale pointed at the front door and demanded forgiveness before he answered the relatives' questions.

'You brought this pain back into my house, Cassidy,' he said. 'If you can't forgive me, leave.'

The relatives stood behind me in Dale's living room.

Daniel set the folder and plea file on the table beside me.

Dale's demand made them choose before he gave them an answer.

'You want forgiveness before you answer one question?' I said. 'You don't get to set that price.'

A relative stepped beside me instead of toward the door.

'We came for answers, not to comfort you,' they said. 'I'm staying.'

Dale lowered his hand.

No one else moved toward the door.

He looked at my coat and frowned.

'Cassidy, take that off. You're making my house feel like a courtroom.'

I kept it on.

'It's a coat, Dale. It hasn't asked you anything.'

The relative beside me glanced at the folder.

Dale wanted them discussing my manners instead of his answer.

My fingers shook against the folder's edge.

I gripped the table with my free hand until they steadied.

The table felt sticky near the salt shaker.

I kept my palm pressed to that spot.

'What did you tell us about the crash?' a relative asked.

Dale looked at the folder.

'I told you the brakes failed.'

'You said faulty brakes caused it,' the relative said.

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