“Daddy!” the toddler yelled.
He ran forward.
Elowen closed her eyes for one painful second, then opened them.
“Kids can say hello on the porch,” she said.
Sylas’s smile dropped.
“On the porch?”
“You didn’t call. You’re not coming in.”
“It’s Sunday dinner,” he said. “Don’t be weird.”
“This is Vesper’s home.”
He laughed.
“Vesper’s home? Come on. She’s a charity case in some old guy’s attic.”
The room went very still.
I set down my fork.
Mr. Gideon’s voice turned quiet.
“You will leave now.”
Sylas raised his hands.
“I’m just saying what everyone knows.”
“No,” Elowen said.
Her voice shook.
But she stepped between him and the children.
“You don’t get to insult the person who helped feed your kids.”
“I’m their father.”
“Then act like it when nobody is watching.”
His face hardened.
There it was.
