“So did several of the veterans who were denied housing grants when funds disappeared,” Marlowe replied.
That landed harder than anything else.
A murmur spread through the relatives like wind through dry leaves. Christmas candles flickered on the long dining table. The smell of roasted turkey and cinnamon suddenly felt obscene.
Daniel looked around, measuring the room.
He had always been good at that. He could sense weakness, loyalty, hesitation. He knew which person would break first and which could be used as a shield.
His gaze settled on me.
“You did this.”
I laughed softly, not because anything was funny, but because the accusation was so perfectly him.
“No, Daniel. You did.”
“You show up with four children I was never told about—”
“Careful,” I said.
My voice was quiet, but it cut through his.
He stopped.
I picked up one of the refused certified letters and held it between two fingers.
