Vaughn shrugs. “Not many. Enough to get Daria all freaked out, but not enough to make her stop. He…” My son looks sideways, shaking his head on a sigh, like this is ridiculous, even to him. “Mom, he buys her crazy shit. I don’t know how he affords that kind of crap on his salary.”
“Language.”
“Honestly, after everything I told you about how other kids are behaving, you should award me with a medal, not worry about my profanity.”
“I can do both.” I let loose a tired smile, but then I remember how complicated the situation is. I love Daria. I love her like a family member, and she is getting drawn into something very dangerous.
I look down at my hands. They’re shaking.
I look up to my son. His eyes are searching mine.
Then I hear the words I shouldn’t be hearing, from a person who shouldn’t be in this room.
It’s my husband, and he is standing at the door to Vaughn’s room, one arm propped over the doorframe. “Drama in Todos Santos, who would have thought?”
I put my hand over Vaughn’s, and he shoots a knowing glance at his dad.
“Guess you can call us All Saints’ Sinners.”