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Only a little.

Thomas leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Mom sat beside him.

For several minutes, neither spoke.

She had known him most of her life. He had worked beside Grandpa, shared meals with our family, and watched all five of us grow up.

Tonight, he had become a stranger carrying pieces of a history Grandpa never gave us.

I understood why Mom was angry.

I also saw Thomas’s shaking hands.

Whatever he had kept from us hadn’t left him untouched.

Storm walked over to Ward.

“Are we in danger?”

“We don’t know.”

“You have six armed men surrounding the house.”

“Four.”

She raised one eyebrow.

Ward glanced toward Nathan.

“Five.”

Nathan looked offended.

“I’m not one of your men.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“You counted me.”

“I counted the weapon beneath your shirt.”

Mom turned toward him.

“You’re carrying a gun?”

Nathan’s expression remained perfectly calm.

“I’ve been carrying one since we left the hospital.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I assumed you knew.”

“Why would I know?”

“You notice everything.”