Ryan moved further into the room, his steps unhurried. He finally lowered himself into the armchair opposite his father. He crossed one leg over the other, his posture relaxed in a way that felt completely at odds with the storm in the room.
He didn’t look away.
“It’s interesting,” he repeated, “that when you believed Eve had committed that same crime… you weren’t angry at all.”
The words dropped between them like stones.
Jonathan went still.
Leah sniffed loudly, visibly bracing, her fingers twisting the handkerchief like a rope.
Ryan kept going, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut.
“You weren’t this furious when the police labelled my wife a thief,” he said. “You didn’t shout at anyone to stop them. You didn’t demand an explanation or insist there had been a mistake. No one in t
