“Those people . . . ” Donald said, trailing off. “The shape they’re in, all the expenses, maybe those kinds of people should just die.”
“I don’t know,” he finally said, letting out a sigh. “He doesn’t recognize you. Maybe you should just let him die and move down to Florida.”
Wait! What did he just say? That my son doesn’t recognize me? That I should just let him die?
Did he really just say that? That I should let my son die . . . so I could move down to Florida
Donald says the quiet part out loud again. “If they’re not useful anymore, get rid of them.” Callous as ever, the contrast with Harris couldn’t be clearer.