My initial reaction was to leap out of my chair, tear the cardboard in half, and unleash three years of bottled up anger directly into Gene’s face.
Brandon did not move toward the table either.
We both looked down at Holly.
She had already noticed the card.
Her small face did not crumple into tears.
She did not ask why her name was missing.
She did not turn to me to fix the situation.
Instead, she reached into the small beaded purse Brandon had given her before the trip.
Her tiny hand slid inside the fabric.
When she pulled her hand back out, her small fingers were wrapped tightly around the red velvet box.
In that exact instant, the entire dynamic in the room shifted, even though Gene had not realized it yet.
The previous morning, Holly had been forced to endure a humiliating moment while the adults calculated how much noise they wanted to make on Christmas Day.
Now, the total power to act belonged exclusively to her.
