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Mother pulls away from me and hands me the box. I open it, finding the medal I don’t think I deserve. I didn’t save Hannah after all. It doesn’t matter if I saved hundreds of others. I didn’t keep my promises to Hannah, the promise to keep her safe.

“I’m so proud of you.” Mother’s voice rescues me from my self-inflicted misery. I’m so proud of you. I never heard those words from her before and up to this moment I had no idea how much I craved them. How much I need my mother to be a mother to me.

My father pushes at Logan and Logan stands his ground. He tries again and Logan speaks up for the first time since they got here. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

Father sneers at him, his eyes vile and filled with disgust.

“The two soldiers who came to our door to deliver that trinket”—he points at the box in my hands—“said you were discharged a year ago and yet, this is the first we hear about it.”

I shrug. Still haven’t said a word to either of them. Logan looks at me when he hears Father’s words. There’s hurt in his eyes, but he covers it fast. We learned early on not to show any kind of weakness in front of our father.

“Why?” he asks me.

“Why what, Father?”

“Why didn’t you come back home?”

“I did. I’m home.”

“This is not your home. Your place is not here. It is back in Connecticut at my side.”

“You’re mistaken, Father. This is my home now. I have no intention of returning to Connecticut or ever taking a place at your side.”

“Nonsense. You are done playing soldier. You are to pack your things and return with me right now.”

I look around the room and find River. There’s worry and anger in her eyes.

“Listen, boy. I have been too soft with you. You’re a man now. Start acting like it. Do what you’re told and get in that car. I’ll arrange for enrollment at Harvard. You can start right away and work at the company.” My father ignores what I said before and tries to bully me into doing his bidding.

“Which part of this aren’t you getting? I’m not going anywhere. You couldn’t force me six years ago and you can’t force me now.”

“If you don’t get in that car right now, I will disown you and your brother.”

“You did that a long time ago when you both forgot we were your children and not a business deal or a project you could manipulate for your own gain.”

“How dare you? You will never see a cent of my money. I’ll make sure neither of you get anywhere,” Father yells.

Mother recoils but does not say anything.

I look back at the both of them. My parents. The people who should have loved me most. All my physical needs were met. I had a house but never a home. I had meals, but never a family dinner.

“You never loved us. You were never a father to us. Who taught Logan to ride a bike? Our gardener Joe did, and Logan taught me. Whose bed did I run to when I had nightmares and was scared? It was never yours. Never. Yours. It was Mary who took me in and dried my tears when I was three and you told me to tough it out. It was Mary who read me bedtime stories when you both were too busy with your own lives to be bothered. It was Mary who helped Logan and me with homework and it was Mary who kissed the pain away when I fell and scraped my knees. And when you told me to either go to law school or get out, it was Mary who found me on the street and offered to use her life savings to pay for my college. I could not let her do that and I could not let you two bully me into being something I’m not and will never be. That’s why I joined the navy and even though you knew where I was, I never received a single letter from you, not a fucking postcard saying, ‘Hey, son, hope you stay safe.’ No, neither one of you bothered. But Mary, well, she sent letters every week and care packages. Sometimes it would be months before the letters reached me and I would get a dozen at a time. I wrote her back, and I called her too. Every opportunity I got. She wanted me to call you two and make peace, but I knew better. You never wanted a son. You wanted an extension of yourself. Well, I have news for you because it seems you just don’t get it, do you, Father?”

His hands fist at his sides. There’s pure hatred in his eyes.

“I am my own person and so is Logan, and we are not extensions of you.”

I can see the hurt in my mother’s eyes, but I don’t know if she’s hurt because of my words or because of her actions, or her lack of actions, really. She’s a weak woman and never stood a chance against my father. She did what he told her, she went along whatever path he set for her. Her expression changes. My words hurt her, but I can see now that the pain in her eyes is not for herself but for all she allowed to happen to our family.

My father’s oblivious. Of everything I said, his only concern is how close I am to Mary, the only mother I had ever known.

“Mary? That old woman has meddled in our family business and filled your head with illusions. I’ll fire her as soon as we get back home. Get in the car, Liam!” he ordered. “We are leaving right now.”

“Mary won’t be back at the house.” I refuse to call that place home. “I’ll have her pack her things and move out as soon as you leave here. You may want to look into hiring a new chef when you get back.” I ignore his remarks about me going back.

“I’ll have her arrested. I’ll call the police as soon as we are back and have her arrested.”

“For what? Mary has never broken the law.”