through his face then. Not merely irritation. Not grief. Not even fear.
Calculation.
He was trying to decide how much I knew.
That realization sent a chill through me.
I pointed at his chair. “Sit.”
For once, my older brother listened.
He lowered himself slowly, though his body remained pitched forward as if he might spring up again. His tie had shifted sideways. A faint line of sweat shone above his upper lip.
Ethan kept his hands on his mother’s photograph.
Helen reached into the wooden box and removed the