The room seemed to lose all sound as Jeremy pointed directly at his father. Eight years of silence had conditioned us to expect nothing but gestures, so when his lips moved, nobody breathed. My husband’s face drained of color before a single word was spoken.
Jeremy kept his eyes fixed on him. His voice came out rough and shaky from years of disuse, but every syllable was clear. “Dad knows where Janice is.” The fork slipped from my husband’s hand and clattered against the plate. Before anyone could react, Jeremy slowly rose from his chair and continued speaking. Then he revealed the memory that had haunted him for eight long years…
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