Chapter 118

Which brought Dean back to his problem.

“April, dear.” Their mother stopped by the table, gaze flicking between three glasses of amber liquid.

“Jay’s up first,” April said, voice distorted again as she drank.

“I don’t mind which of you speaks first, but it is time.” A pointed tilt of the woman’s head and Jay slithered out of his seat. He stalked to the lectern, stiff in all the wrong ways. Focused on Jay, Dean jumped when someone touched him on the shoulder.

“You owe me one of those,” Fran?ois’s kid said, nodding at Dean’s half-empty glass, then was gone again. Took Dean a moment to notice he’d tossed a piece of paper onto the table.

* * * *

“Not all love stories last long beyond three important little words.”