"Just out at the woodpile. Can't have Christmas without a fire," Mom said. "Right. Got to ward off that balmy Florida winter," I said. Mom smiled. "We...may have moved out of the northeast, but his heart is still there. I'm not sure he'll ever forgive me for taking him away from his skiing and his hiking. As if we could keep paying those taxes, or his old back could take another New York winter." I chuckled. That sounded just like Dad. And, strangely, it did. I was sure this too was a lie. Dad's. That's what it is to be a slave. I was numb now, except in my dreams, and numbness is a thing you can't understand until you feel it. Until it consumes you. Becomes you."You go on television today." There was the clattering of a metal tray being shoved under the bars, kicked towards me so that the cold hard rice was caught and tumbled off to flake on the floor.I scrambled for it, catching the rice in my broken fingers like a living thing and pushing it between my lips. He watched me. Not. More

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