just had a sense about the guy, an
intuition. I’d felt it even before the
mulberry tree. That night hadn’t
changed my feelings toward Abel; it
had only shown me, in flesh and
blood, what he was capable of.
“I understand that it’s hard,”
she said. “I understand that you
don’t want a new dad.”
“No,” I said. “It’s not that. I like
Abel. I like him a lot. But you
shouldn’t marry him.” I didn’t know
the word “sinister” then, but if I had
I probably would have used it.
“There’s just something not right
about him. I don’t trust him. I don’t
think he’s a good person.”