only six years old, a sweet, quiet boy who didn't understand the toxic currents in our family. In his sm

," he whispered, holding the c

breath. Maybe, just maybe, the innocence

' s hand. He glanced at it for a

th contempt. "This is an insult. Can't you even draw a

rs. "I tried my best," he mumb

d. "You're a whiny little crybaby. A d

lf, the constant, cruel reminders of her husband's death. But to see t

into her arms as

thur, her face a mask of grief

our table, looking horrified. "Sir, I'm goi

! I'm the customer!" He then turned his venom back o

finger toward Carol and Leo. "David was a fool! A fool who died for no

ble thing he could have said. He hadn't just insulted the memory o

lf scream, half sob. Her body shook wi

with hatred. "I hope you fall in and there's no one there to s

. The rest of us were frozen, horrified by the depths of his cruelty. The birthday pa

athing. The silence that had defined his relationship wi

uiet. He took a step toward Arthur. "If you don't leave

e, stood up and moved to my father's side, forming a wall between him an