he said, and the word daughter dripped with air quotes.
A few relatives chuckled uncomfortably.
“I hope she’s been thinking about our conversation, about proving where she really comes from.”
The room went quiet.
“Dad,”
Marcus said, half rising from his chair.
“Maybe this isn’t the time.”
Gerald waved him off.
“No, no, this is exactly the time. Family should be honest with each other.”
He smiled at me. That cold reptilian smile I’d seen a thousand times.
“You know what they call a bird that lays its eggs in another bird’s nest? A cuckoo. The cuckoo’s egg looks beautiful, doesn’t it? But it doesn’t belong. It never did.”
Somewhere behind me, an aunt gasped. A cousin snickered. My mother stared at her lap, tears dripping onto her Cardier bracelet, a guilt gift Gerald had given her after one of their worst fights.
I picked up my fork, set it down again, and stood. Every eye in the room turned to me.
“Thank you for the reminder, Gerald,”
I said, my voice steady.
“I’ll remember this.”
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