almost sounded prepared enough to be believable.
“What happened?” I asked.
Vanessa sighed.
She did not cry.
She did not pause to steady herself.
She sighed as if my questions were making an inconvenient morning even longer.
“Does it matter? He’s gone.”
Dad lowered his fork.
Then Vanessa moved to the part of the conversation she clearly cared about.
“Grant and I are handling everything. There’s really no reason for you to come to the house.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed.
“The locks are being changed this morning,” she continued.
From somewhere
