At Thanksgiving Dinner, My Daughter Yelled, ‘Where’s the Woman Dad Keeps in Our Barn?’ — The Room Fell Silent

You’re right.”

I wanted to believe him. I really did. By afternoon, our guests started arriving: my parents, Patrick’s younger sister, and my brother’s family.

The house came alive with noise and warmth. Laughter echoed in the dining room, glasses clinked, and the kids chased each other down the hallway. For a while, I managed to forget the unease in my chest.

Dinner was served at five. The turkey came out golden and perfect, the table glowed under the soft light, and everything seemed just as it should be until Lily stood up. We had just finished saying grace.

Patrick was carving the turkey when she pushed back her chair, her little brow furrowed in that serious way she got when she was about to announce something important. “Mom?” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Where’s the woman Dad keeps in our barn?”

The room froze.

Forks hovered midair. My heart stopped beating for a moment. “What?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“The woman,” Lily repeated innocently. “The one Dad talks to in the barn at night. She’s really quiet, but sometimes she sings.

I thought she’d come for dinner too.”

Patrick’s hand tightened around the carving knife. Everyone turned toward him. My father cleared his throat.

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