I shook my head. Tears filled my eyes. In this house, there was no greater sin than selfishness. "That's not true!" I protested loudly.
Her eyes widened again. "Quiet, you fool. If you wake Daddy…"
"Okay, okay," I said, and shut off the iPod. I never had woken Daddy. None of us had, but the threat of his and Mrs. Fennel's anger should I do so was quite enough to make me tremble.
Daddy would have to sleep nearly the entire day at least once a month. Most of the time on those days, he didn't even come to dinner. When I was much younger and asked Mrs. Fennel about it, my nanny cryptically replied, "Digestion." She would say nothing more, and one look from her told me not to ask any more questions about it. She hated my questions anyway.
One time, she snapped at me and said, "Your questions buzz around my ears like annoying flies." She waved her hand near her head as if they were there.
