Carol often told herself the trouble began the day John, Diane’s father, left. It was as if the silence he left behind seeped into their home and rewired her daughter’s laughter into defiance. One parent could pay the bills, yes, but could one parent anchor a storm?
As the only breadwinner, Carol had spent nights stocking shelves, mornings in an office, and afternoons juggling errands. The space in between was where Diane grew wild—her mischief sharpening, her patience thinning. Carol blamed herself for each expulsion. Too little attention, and too many apologies said through tired eyes.