We have the best doctor’s money can buy. I’m not going anywhere. I said she’s my daughter. Victor snapped, his voice rising. And you are just a husband who is never there. You weren’t there to protect her. I’m handling this. I stepped close to him. I was 3 in taller than him and about 50 lb of muscle heavier than his security guards.
“That’s the problem, Victor,” I whispered so only he could hear. “You’re handling it too well. You don’t look sad. You look inconvenienced.” Victor’s eye twitched. I looked at the brothers, seven of them, strong, capable men, yet not a single scratch on any of them. But I noticed something else. Mason, the youngest one. He wasn’t looking at me.
He was looking at the floor. His hands were shaking. He was holding a coffee cup and the liquid was rippling. They were hiding something. A robbery, I said loud enough for all of them to hear. That’s the story. Some junkie broke in and hit her. How many times? I looked at the medical chart I had swiped from the end of the bed. 31 times, I read aloud.
