The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the house in that heavy, expensive silence that only the wealthy can afford. We were gathered in the dining room, the chandelier overhead casting a gold glow on the porcelain plates. It was the picture of a perfect family dinner. My mother sat at one end, looking radiant and refreshed, as if she hadn’t probably spent the afternoon being ruined by her husband's nephew. Vaughan sat at the head, his face a mask of ice. though I could see the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for his wine glass.
The smell of roasted chicken and rosemary filled the air, but I couldn't taste a thing. All I could taste was him.
"So, Angel," my mother started, her voice bright and melodic as she cut into her meat. "How did your day go? You were so mysterious ab
