I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around her shaking shoulders while saying, “What the hell is wrong with you, Blake, she is eight years old and she took a candy bar, not your company profits.”
Blake wiped his knuckles with a napkin as if the moment had merely been an inconvenience and replied coldly, “Maybe if you taught your kid some discipline she would not act like she owns everything in the room.”
My mother Dorothy Harper immediately stepped between us with the anxious voice she used whenever Blake lost his temper and said, “Let’s calm down before things get dramatic, Sadie should have asked before taking something that did not belong to her.”
My father Franklin Harper nodded beside her with the tired expression of a man who had spent decades pretending that silence was the same thing as peace.
Sadie clung to me with tears streaking down her cheeks while whispering, “Mom, I did not know I had to ask, I thought chocolate was just a snack.”
I held her tightly and answered softly, “You did nothing wrong, sweetheart, nobody is allowed to hurt you for something so small.”