“I, er, I told her about how I grew up. About the kind of man my father was.” She averted her gaze. “Which I don’t want to use as an excuse. And I said the same thing to Micky. I’m not looking to be excused. All I’m looking for are ways to live with what I’ve done.”

“What kind of man was he?” Lou thought back to the conversation she’d had with her father only this morning. She figured that, unlike hers, Mia’s dad was not a kind-hearted, overly protective man whom Mia could confide in about pretty much anything.

“A bitter racist. A bully to my mother. Someone so disappointed with life, he tried to suck the joy out of it for all of us as well.” Her voice had stopped trembling. “He was—well, is an awful man. And, sadly, a man I allowed myself to be influenced by for too long.” She sighed. “All the words I used to shout at you, I learned from him.” She buried her head in her hands again. When she glanced up, she said, “I should have known better. I did, in fact, know better. Of course, I did. Your tears told me enough. Told me that what I was doing was wrong, but I grew addicted to the power of my words. To the power I could wield over someone else, someone with a different skin color to me, because, in the process, I could try and make my dad proud as well.” She wiped a sudden tear from her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Lou. It was all just such a fucking mess back then, my entire life was like walking this tightrope between feeling powerless at home and this constructed, false sense of power at school. Because I had a big mouth, and I could at least use that to my advantage.”

Lou didn’t know what to say, so she just kept quiet. Of course Micky would feel sorry for Mia after she told her a sob story like that, but it was different for Lou, who had been on the receiving end of Mia’s anger and frustration for far too long.

“I wish I could somehow prove to you that I’m not an inherently mean person. I’m not like my father. In fact, I haven’t seen him in more than ten years. I want nothing to do with him. I know what I did was wrong, and I will carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life, but I had to get on with my life as well. I had to find a way to make it work knowing what I had done to you and others. Knowing that I had let my father’s hatred seep into my psyche and wreak the havoc it did. I walked away from him and never looked back.”