In the morning, when I came downstairs, Tina stood at the landing. Anger sat between her brows, her cane thudding hard against the floor.
She swept a cold glance at William, then flung her sleeve and strode away, deeper into the house.
I almost laughed bitterly.
So much for a peaceful morning.
The moment I sat at the breakfast table; Tina’s voice exploded from the other room.
“What did you do last night? Why weren’t you home? Why didn’t you stay with your wife?”
Her voice was loud enough to crack a chandelier.
William stood there stiff, and the real eye of the storm.
Adrian was already seated calmly at Tina’s side, tearing his toast with leisurely elegance.
“Last night, I got a work call,” William lowered his head, reciting like a script. “It went late, so I rested there.”
…Work?
