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“Not to his face.” He cracked an eye open to gauge her expression. Her shell-pink lips were twisted in a little, secret smile. She caught him looking and her smile deepened. “No one calls him anything to his face, isn’t that right?” He let his silence be his answer. She shrugged, a movement that seemed both casual and full of meaning. “I know. You can’t talk to me. No one can talk to me. I don’t blame you, I know what he’s like.” “Do you?” he said harshly, before he could think. The minute it left his mouth he bit his lip, cursing himself. Her smile vanished. “I...actually, no,” she said, very softly, surprising him. “He’s my father, of course I love him, but...” She trailed off, biting her lip. “But over the last few years he’s seemed so...he seems...” She glanced up at him, question
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