Waiting for explanation
I waited for them to explain further, feeling a mix of anger and curiosity. My father shifted in his seat, looking as though he was searching for the right words.
‘We were hoping you might be able to… help us,’ he began, his voice barely above a whisper. My mother nodded in agreement, her eyes beseeching.
‘It’s been really hard, and we didn’t know where else to turn,’ she added. Their vulnerability was palpable, but so was my skepticism.
