He approached with a face I’d never seen on him. Uncertain. A little afraid. And underneath it, the fast recalculation of a man who has just discovered, in public, that he bet on the wrong daughter.
“Kade. I had no idea. First in your class — the medal — why didn’t you say something? We’d have—”
“That’s the whole thing, Dad,” I said. “If I’d said something. You’d have shown up if there was something in it for you. If there were important people to meet. If it made you look good in front of the superintendent.
