I’d been holding her cocooned against me, so it was easy to feel her body stiffen in response to my question. I wasn’t surprised. When she first unveiled the truth about her mother’s death, I’d sensed she was holding something back.
“Does it matter why?” she asked quietly, her voice worn from months of anguish. It had to have been hell living with the man who’d inflicted so much pain in her life.
“I’m afraid it does. I need to know what happened.” Yet again, I sensed the tension in her body intensify, so I continued. “Normally, we don’t involve ourselves in the domestic disputes of people outside of our organization. But if there’s more to her death than a violent husband, your uncle may need to know.”
“You would get involved if there was more to it? My father would likely know that you
