My daughter’s face turned red. “He doesn’t even understand half of what’s going on! He’s sick!”
“I understand enough,” I said, and for the first time that day, my voice didn’t shake.
Angela stepped closer to me. “Mr. Miller, would you like to go inside?”
It seems like a simple question.
But in that moment, it felt like someone handing me back my dignity.
“Yes,” I said.
The officers waited as I slowly picked up one of the boxes. The younger officer quickly took it from my hands.
“Let me help you with that.”
We walked back toward the door together.
My daughter stepped aside without a word.
Continue on the next page:
