Paula wouldn’t know that. Besides, she has a vision of what she wants my party to be, what my life should be, where I should go to college …

What I want really seems irrelevant at this point. What kind of life is that?

So I’ll go along. I’ll have the party. I’ll smile and eat cake.

“Sheriff Gleason called,” I blurt out.

Paula freezes, her shoulders automatically tense.

“Yeah, he explained all the charges against my dad.” I tear off the bandage. “I’d like to be there for sentencing. I want to give a statement.”

“Absolutely not. Your father is finally going to do something right and plead guilty.”

“I know, but my testimony may help reduce his sentence.” What I don’t tell her is that I really, really need to see him. If I’m in the courtroom, I can at least look at him with my own eyes. Although I realize I may not like what I see. Sheriff Gleason also mentioned that Dad’s a little down and has lost some weight, but Dad’s main concern is always how I’m doing.

“No,” Paula states firmly as she grips the sides of the counter. “Your father committed a crime, and he should be punished.”

“He is being punished. But I want the judge to see I’m fine. He took great care of me. He pushed me to be a good student. I wouldn’t have gotten the grades I did if it wasn’t for him.”

“What a saint.” The bitterness in her voice has reached a new level.

“I’m sorry that you don’t want to hear that, but it’s true. And since we’re on the topic, I’d like to finally talk to his family. You can’t keep me from my aunt and grandmother.”

She turns around, and her face is filled with anger. “Yes, I can. You can talk to them when you finally start acting like a part of this family. Oh, believe me, you’ve been quite clear on how much your father means to you. Yes, you’ve made that obvious. I know he poisoned you against me.”

Paranoid much, Paula?

She’s been convinced this entire time that Dad bad-mouthed her. But he didn’t because I had thought she was dead. All I do know of our relationship when I was little is that I didn’t want to spend time with her when I was three years old.

So maybe I am the same person I was when I was taken.

“Dad never poisoned me—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” She raises her voice at me. “I’ve tried to think about your feelings, but you really don’t seem to be concerned about mine. I am your mother. You are my daughter. This is my time with you.”

I decide to raise my voice as well. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”