Prologue
IT RAINED THE DAY we went to see Brandon Winterton’s grave. The tombstone was a large, gaudy thing with an obelisk sticking out of the top. Exactly what you’d expect from the Wintertons. People like them had money to waste. I nudged Gordon. “There, you’ve seen it. Now can we go? I’m soaked.” “Hope.” Exasperation dripped from his voice. “Can you give me, like, more than one second? This is our father, you know.” “In name only.” I stomped in a puddle and watched the mud squish up the side of my shoe. Figured. “Besides, I’m older. You have to listen to me, and I say it’s time to go.” Gordon rolled his eyes. “By twelve minutes. I still don’t get why you hate him so much. He’s been dead almost thirteen years. It’s not like he abandoned us on purpose. He probably didn’t even know Mom was pregnant when he died.”
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6/29/23 4:03 PM