Leo didn’t scream. That was the worst part. He froze. His face went pale, a red handprint blooming on his cheek, and he cried silently. Tears just rolled down his face without a sound. It was the reaction of a child who instinctively knows that making noise will only make it worse.
The table turned to stone. Mark had dropped his fork. Evelyn was staring at her plate, tears leaking from her eyes, but she didn’t move.
The rage that rose in my chest was blinding. It was primal. I started to push back my chair, ready to launch myself across the table and tear that old man apart.
But before I could stand, a chair scraped loudly against the hardwood floor.
It was Sarah.
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