You Can Be Her Father Instead

Backstage, Dad yanked my zipper down and gave my dress to Lila. “She has no dad. Be good.” On stage I wore an oversized boy's shirt, fell, scraped my palm—his camera never left Lila. Hives at the ER—he gave my slot to her. I scratched raw in the hallway, fur and blood on the floor. Divorce court: three clips played—him stripping me, me falling, him shoving Lila through the door. Judge gave Mom full custody. Outside he asked “Can I still visit?” I shook my head. “Go be Lila's dad. I already have