A shadow crosses Silas’s face. “I am a man; you are a boy. I will not be belittled in my home by someone so spineless.”
I stare at them both, dumbfounded. Spineless is one word I would never use to describe Cole. His son was the boldest person I knew.
The entrée arrives, breaking up the conversation. Sesame-seed crusted salmon, rosemary potato spuds, and steamed veggies in a ginger lemon sauce wafts my nose.
The aroma divine, but my stomach is in knots.
Abram clears his throat. “Yes, well does anyone else have anything they would like to share. How was school today?” he rushes out quickly. Eyes bouncing between Finn and me.
At first Finn hunches, his shoulders not understanding, then catches on. Abram trying to defuse the situation.
“Right, yeah.” Wiping at his mouth, stalling. “I had a math test today, shit was tough.”
“I’m sure you did great, sweety,” Lorna pipes in. She sounded so…motherly. It seemed foreign, her posture as straight as her tone. I wanted to barf.
“I guess.” He didn’t sound sure. “I’ll find out tomorrow.”
Cole wasn’t quite done yet. Silently simmering in his seat as the minutes ticked by. “You don’t need to be good at math, Finn, you can hire a whole team of people to do all the work for you. My father does.”
“That hardly seems relevant,” Abram declares.
Lorna chokes on her food, coughing into her napkin. He pats her back, sliding her a water glass.
Cole shrugs, detached. “I thought we were stating facts.”
Silas waited a long moment before responding. My stomach churned further as he gives Cole an empty but fulfilled expression. What he was about to say was going to be bad. I could feel it.
Fire fueling his lungs, Silas starts. Cole’s jaw grates in anticipation.
“Speaking of that, Abram. I was talking with the board, and we came to the agreement we felt we no longer needed to keep the Kellet Fundraiser Gala going after this year.”
You could have heard a pin drop it got so quiet.
Cole’s mouth twists so tight I’m surprised he didn’t crack a tooth.
“People at school look forward to it every year,” Finn defends, joining the conversation. “It’s a tradition.”
“We have raised so much awareness for something that was not openly discussed before,” Abram adds. “Think of all the people we have been able to help with the donations we’ve raised.”
My gaze flicks back to Cole. Still silently fuming in his spot.
A sense of right and wrong seemed to be at war.
“Enough time has passed. The funds allotted to the event can be used in helping grow future projects.” Silas’s concern artificial.
“This isn’t about gaining funds,” Abram stresses.
He sat there looking like he was considering what he said. The mirthless look in his eye told me he was toying with him. Amusing Abram’s concerns to make him feel better.
A show, like when a cat plays with a mouse instead of killing him outright and ending the torture. Enjoying the discomfort.
Silas shrugged, looking helpless. “The board has already agreed.”
I turn my head sharply. “What does that mean?”
Finn’s face an ashen shade of white. “It means there’s nothing we can do.” He swallows. “This will be the last year of the event.”
The screeching sound of a chair as it’s shoved back draws my attention across the table. Hatred-filled tension surged, radiating off Cole like a self-starting tornado. Storming out of the room.