Page 563 of End Game

Her hands stop moving. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

Dad lowers himself back into his chair.

Mom stays standing.

I take the couch.

The same couch that's been in the family since I was five, reupholstered three times because replacing something that still functions apparently violates Mom's moral code.

There are pictures everywhere.

Mom has never believed in blank walls.

Me at six with missing front teeth.

Me at twelve beside Hannah and Caleb, all three of us sunburned after some family reunion.

A graduation picture.

One from Aunt Rachel's fiftieth birthday where there are so many people packed into the frame that half the cousins are cut off at the shoulders.

Elijah is in front, grinning.

I drag my eyes away.

Mom finally sits beside Dad.

Her hands fold in her lap.

Dad looks at me.

“Alright.” I nod once.

There is no version of this where the right opening changes the ending.

So I don't waste time looking for one.

“I'm queer.”

Mom's face empties.

Dad doesn't move.

I continue before either of them can speak.

“I'm attracted to men and women. I've known for a long time.”

Mom inhales sharply.

Not a gasp—something smaller.

Dad's mouth tightens. “Micah.”

“I'm not done.”

That surprises him.