Chapter 11: Family Lunch

Nobody at the table moved.

Hugh's chair scraped back. "What is he doing here?"

I looked at Ivo.

His face had gone blank.

"Hello, Father," he said.

The word landed on me hard.

"You have no business at this table," the old man said. "You were not invited."

"I'm here with her."

Every head turned toward me.

Hugh's mother set down her glass with a small click. "With her? Joelle? This is the girl?"

"You know each other," I said. My voice sounded very far away.

Hugh had gone white to the lips. "Jo, don't."

"Hugh. Who is he?"

"Nobody. He's..."

"He is my son," said the old man. "My eldest. We do not speak of him."

I stared at the man beside me.

He was not looking at me. He was looking at the tablecloth.

"He's my brother," Hugh said at last, thin and fast. "Half-brother."

"His mother left, and he left too. I didn't want to bring it up. It's complicated."

The cropped photo on Hugh's desk.

The shoulder at the edge, cut off.

Five years, and he had never told me I was sleeping beside a man with a brother.

"You told me you were an only child," I said.

"I said I was the only child at home."

"You said it so I'd stop asking."

"Jo..."

"Sit," his mother snapped, to nobody in particular. "All of you. We are in public."

I did not sit.

Tansy leaned forward with her gentle, worried face.

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