Chapter 16 - THE PEOPLE WHO LAUGHED
I could not stop hearing the laughter.
Not my brother.
The guests.
Romy fell.
Adults laughed.
Why?
I asked some.
One cousin said:
“I thought she’d tripped at first.”
Video showed he laughed before she hit the floor.
He later admitted:
“I laughed because your brother laughed.”
Another:
“I thought it was some family joke.”
A slap.
To a five-year-old.
No.
Aunt Elise—the oldest relative there—did not laugh.
She froze.
Then moved toward Romy just as I entered.
I had not noticed.
That mattered.
She apologized anyway.
“I should’ve yelled.”
“Maybe.”
“I didn’t know what to do.”
There are moments when not knowing is real.
There are also moments when adults use confusion to avoid discomfort.
I stopped trying to classify everyone perfectly.
Some relatives lost access to Romy.
Especially those who minimized.
One told me:
“Kids are resilient.”
I answered:
“That’s not an invitation to test them.”
Conversation over.
Others acted better.
No giant reconciliation dinner.
No forced family unity.
May you like
Christmas lists got smaller.
Peace got larger.
