Chapter Eighteen
ISAAC
Her father spread his dark, tree-trunk arms, and stepped toward her, wrapping her up, swallowing her body up. He cradled her head with surprising tenderness for such a burly man, kissed it, and then stepped back, tears in his eyes. “I am so happy you came to see me this time.” He spoke with an accent, heavily-clipped and with poor enunciation, but Isaac couldn’t place it.
“Dad,” she whispered, and she stepped to the side. She nervously brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, and seemed reluctant to meet his eyes. “I’m actually here on business.”
“Oh?”
“And we can’t stay long. This is Isaac. You are going to want to listen to us.”
Isaac looked toward Lillian, saw that her eyes were red, but her body language had gone cold toward him, and so he followed her lead,
