Jennifer leans forward and puts her hand over mine. The contact is so unexpected that I go completely still. I stare down at her fingers—so petite, so fragile, so innocent-seeming if I didn’t know better.
Reluctantly, I raise my eyes to meet hers.
“You were protecting your family,” she reminds me softly. “You did what I would have done. You have nothing to feel guilty for.”
I nod slowly, letting those words sink in.
She gives me a soft smile and then she pulls her hand back. “If you can’t talk to Mia, then try talking to Rob,” she suggests. “He seems like the harder nut to crack, but he has a big heart.”
“Dad always said that about Rob. Used to call him Tootsie Pop, just to piss him off. ‘He’s a tough guy with a soft center.’”
Jennifer chuckles. “We can all agree on that. Tootsie Pop
