The man in the gray suit adjusted his glasses and looked at me with polite confusion, like I was a stranger who had wandered into a private meeting.
My father’s expression hardened.
“You’re late,” he said.
Late.
The word hit me like a slap.
“My grandmother just died,” I replied quietly. “I came as fast as I could.”
My mother sighed the way she always did when I failed to meet her expectations.
“Well, the important things are already being handled.”