Please remember.
“You got my son to do it for you, didn’t you?” It’s a question, but it comes off as a statement. An accusation.
A shadow that carries insight crosses Silas’s face. He’s known too, but for how long?
Please, don’t forget.
Cole moves beside me, jaw tight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man. I haven’t done anything other than what you’ve asked of me.”
Please, we need you.
“I wasn’t talking about you,son,” he derides with zero empathy.
The room waits with charged silence. Who else could he be talking about then?
I know and I wish I didn’t.
Silas’s neck cranes, rotating as his head follows in suit. It goes past Cole, over me, and comes to a clarifying halt at the only other person directly beside me.
Please!
Silas’s smile as coaxing as it is vile. “I’m talking about my other son. Finn.”