If we objected, we would be ruining Christmas.
If we stayed quiet, she got what she wanted.
I leaned toward my husband and whispered his name.
“Travis.”
He did not look at his mother.
He looked at Zia.
“I told her to give Mom the red box if this happened again,” he said quietly.
I turned toward him.
“What red box?”
“The one in her overnight bag.”
I stared at him because this was the first I had heard about it.
“You planned this?”
His answer came immediately.
“No. I prepared for it.”
There was a difference, and in that moment I understood that Travis had stopped hoping his mother would magically become kinder simply because another holiday had arrived.
He had seen the same pattern I had seen.
More importantly, he had decided Zia would not spend another family gathering depending on adults to notice when she had been pushed aside.
