The Deal That Made My Blood Boil
He didn’t ease into it.
He didn’t soften the blow.
He told me he was Marissa’s uncle — her father’s brother.
Then he said the sentence that made my chest go tight:
“Her grandmother died early this morning.”
Behind us, Marissa cried harder.
“Daddy Mike, don’t let him take me!”
The uncle sighed like her grief was an inconvenience.
“Look, I didn’t ask for this,” he said. “I’ve got a life back home. Kids. A job. I’m only here because legally I had to be.”
Then he crossed his arms and said it like we were discussing paperwork:
“I can take her… or you can have her.”
I stared at him.
He shrugged.
“Adopt her. I’ll sign whatever I need to. Clean break.”
He didn’t say her name like she was a person.
He said it like she was a burden he wanted off his hands.
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