During Robert’s Funeral, My Sons Stood By The Casket With Dry Eyes And Perfect Black Suits…

didn’t drop the charges. Not out of hatred. Out of boundaries.

Richard sent us a letter from pre-trial detention. He wrote that Robert had pressured him his whole life. That the debt was drowning him. That Harrison was weak. That I always preferred playing the saint. I tore the letter up.

Harrison sent voicemails. Crying. Begging me to think of my grandchildren.continue reading …