get rid of it, or you get out. I said: Dad, please. I can’t explain now, but one day you’ll understand— He said: get out. I said: Dad— And he said: now. Less than an hour later I was standing on that porch with a holdall and nowhere to go. My mother stayed behind the screen door, crying quietly. She never once tried to stop him. Nineteen, pregnant, no home, on my own. I left the state a few weeks later. I changed my number. I started again. And I
Mis padres me echaron de casa a los diecinueve años porque me negué a interrumpir mi embarazo. Diez años después, regresé en coche con mi hijo, llamé a la misma puerta y, por fin, les conté quién era su padre.
