"Fathers rarely win. He tried."
Two days after Leona's ultimatum, Silver's father called.
Not her mother. Her father. James Preston, who usually stayed out of conflicts, who let Leona run the show, who'd been a quiet presence in the background of Silver's entire skating career.
"Your mother told me what happened," he said without preamble. "The ultimatum. The threat to disown you."
"Yeah." Silver sat on her bed, phone pressed to her ear. "She meant it too."
"I know. I've been listening to her rant about it for two days straight." James sighed. "Silver, I need to tell you something. And I need you to really hear it."
"Okay."
"Your mother loves you. In her own complicated, controlling way, she loves you. But she's wrong about this. Dead wrong." His voice was firm. Strong. "You don't owe her your happiness. You don't owe her your career. You don't owe her anything except basic respect, and even that has limits."
Silver felt tears burning. "Dad—"
