“No,” she attempted a smile but refused eye contact, “he tends to disappear from time to time.”
“Well, cocaine will do that to a person.” I didn’t miss a beat and gave a sorrowful look at Roberto, who shot me a wary look back. “Mama,” I directed my attention to her, “you chose the perfect night to host this dinner. I only hope that when I drill a hammer into Mariano’s chest and rip out his heart, it’ll feel as satisfying.”
Roberto took too large a mouthful, and when my words sank in, he began to cough and sputter as he tried to swallow it down. Papa got out of his chair and worked his way around the table until he was standing behind Roberto.
“Take a breath, old friend,” he cooed as he caught my eye.
“Yes, slower bites,” Bria said, in a trance while she stared at me.
“Bria?” I raised
