POV’s Tate
Philip’s face had gotten all twisted up.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered.
He glared in the direction his mother had gone. “I didn’t know he’d be coming.”
I heard muffled voices coming from the foyer before Philip’s mother reappeared. Beside her was a tall man in a dark trench coat, with a bowler hat in one hand and a leather briefcase in the other. He looked strangely familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.
He gave Philip a crooked smile, “Hey, kid.”
Philip didn’t move to stand, but since this was his relative and not mine, I rose from my seat. His uncle stalked over, looking me up and down. “Damn, this is your girlfriend?” He huffed a laugh. “Little out of your league, no, runt?”
Ms. Crane clicked her tongue, “Kenny–”
“I’m just messin’ around with him,” Kenny said.
