4
Everyone shuffled into the dining room and seated themselves. Ophelia took Harlow’s former place between Rupert and Ryske. Ankle monitors apparently meant demotion to the end of the table. Bottom rung. No one wanted to sit beside the suspected felon, so Harlow was propped there like the court exhibit on display.
Dinner was served and everyone was polite while eating. Regardless, the awkward tension in the air was palpable.
“What’s prison like?” Lena asked.
Well, at least her sister was cutting through the crap. “Worse than jail,” Harlow answered, picking up her water. “Which is where I was.” Lena shifted in a squirm mirrored by most others at the table. Her answer was intended to relax the mood. Instead it had come off as passive aggressive. The trouble was, Harlow wasn’t relaxed eno
