"That mental health leave. You know that was for Ethan, not me. You know exactly what that was about."
"I know what you told me."
"It cost me my job."
"I'm sure your father can remedy that."
"Like the way yours probably got me fired."
Natalie set her cup down. For the first time, something shifted behind her composure. Not guilt. Recognition. The recognition that the conversation had arrived at the place she had expected it to arrive.
"Noah. Your obsession with my father is unhinged."
"Your father is a criminal."
"My father is running for mayor. He's respected. He's stable. Face it, Noah—you're a man still reeling from your brother's death. Your family is coming apart. Your judgment is being questioned. And your investigation is going nowhere." She paused. "You could have had me on your side. You chose to push me away."
The words were delivered without heat. That was what made them worse. She wasn't angry. She was operating from a playbook, her father's playbook, and she was better at it than Noah had ever given her credit for.
"Stay away from my son," he said. "Stay away from all of us. Tell your father that too."
He stood. The booth creaked. A few people in the cafe were watching now, the careful sideways attention of people who could tell something was happening but didn't want to be caught looking.
Natalie watched him go. Her expression was not triumph. It was something harder than that. The last remnant of whatever had existed between them burning away in real time, leaving nothing but the cold architecture of opposing sides.
Noah walked out into the afternoon.
Ethan wasin the passenger seat of the Bronco with his arms crossed. He didn't look at Noah when he got in. He didn't speak until they were two blocks from the cafe.
"You embarrassed me in there."
"I don't want you hanging around the Ashfords."
"You did."
Noah glanced at him. "That was then. This is now. Stay away."
"You can't stop me."
"While you live under my roof, you will do as I say."
Ethan went quiet. The Bronco rolled through town. Past the hardware store. Past the lake. Past the church where Luke's funeral had been held, which felt like a lifetime ago. The mountains were sharp against the sky. A school bus passed going the other direction.
"You know I saw the paper today," Ethan said.
Noah's hands tightened on the wheel.
"Everyone is talking about it. Jared Finley showed me on his phone. The article about you."
Noah didn't respond.
"Is it true? What they said about you being too close to the case?"
"No."
Ethan hesitated. "Then why does it feel like it is?"
"Ethan."
