Last Rites
Caden
I didn’t want to go.
Let me be honest about that. I stood in the hallway with my keys in my hand and my jacket on and Aria looking at me from the study doorway with that expression she wore when she was trying not to ask me not to do something, and I didn’t want to go.
Romano Voss was lying in a hospital bed asking for me and my first instinct, the one that lived underneath all the conditioning and obligation and complicated grief of being his son, was to let him lie there.
But I went.
Because I always went. Because forty-two years of being Caden Voss had taught me that you face the things that scare you before they grow into something you can’t face at all. And because Sophia was sitting in my study with a drive that contained a recording of my father confessing to
