The answer came too fast.
I looked away.
“He knew what he did,” Dad said. “He didn’t stumble into it. He didn’t sound confused. He sounded like a man who thought there should be a way to make everyone accept what he wanted.”
That sounded like Brad.
I hated that it did.
“What did you do?” I asked.
He was quiet for a second.
“Enough.”
I looked at him again. “What does that mean?”
“It means he won’t forget the conversation.”
My chest tightened for another reason. I could picture it too easily, Dad walking into Brad’s workplace, controlled and angry, Brad trying to explain, Brad trying to sound reasonable. I could also picture the moment Dad stopped listening. That thought should’ve made me angry.
It didn’t.
“You hit him,” I said.
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes for one second.
“You can
