"About what?" I turned to face him. "About how you used my family's money to keep your mistress? Or about how my brother died?"
His face paled. "About Larry, I really—"
"Really what?" I cut him off.
"You really didn't know Nora was pregnant? You really didn't know Larry found out about your affair? Or you really didn't know he was so distraught the week before his crash that he couldn't even tell a red light from a green one?"
Rain streamed down his face; there was no telling if it was rain or tears.
"I regret it," he said. "Sully, I really regret what I did."
Hearing that, I could only scoff. "Samuel, do you know what makes the word 'regret' so worthless? It only ever shows up after you've lost everything."
"I can make it up to you, I know, I can—"
"Make it up?" I stepped closer,
