My brother peeled the wrapper off from around his silverware, his eyes suddenly engrossed in his task. “I wondered what exactly he had against the guy. I guess that’s why I was worried Conner had hurt you.”
“Not at all.” I placed my hand over his, stilling his movements. “Sante, has Dad talked about Conner?”
His eyes flitted to mine before dropping again. “Some, but it’s just talk. You know he has a temper.”
“But you’d tell me if he was planning something, right? Please tell me you’d warn us.”
Sante pulled back, slipping his hands from mine. “I don’t know, all right? I don’t know what it is he’s got going on.”
“But … there is something?” I pushed, needing to get answers and sensing my brother was holding out.
“He’s working on something big, but … that could have nothing to do with yo
