Chapter 9: Friday Again

On Friday I didn't wait for them to start talking.

I walked into the den early, before the first hand was dealt.

The door was open, as it always was.

Four men looked up from the poker table.

Warren sat by the window in his usual place.

Graham was in the leather chair, Owen next to him, and Caleb at the far end with his back to the wall.

Nobody had a glass yet.

There was one empty chair at the head of the table, the one nobody ever used because it belonged to my mother's father.

I pulled it out and sat down in it.

"Good evening," I said.

"Tessa," Owen said, very carefully. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I'm going to say something once, so everyone hears it at the same time."

I put both hands flat on the table.

"I've been with Graham. I've been with Owen. I've been with Caleb. Each of them, one at a time, on days I picked."

Nobody breathed.

"I'm telling you all together because I said nothing gets said behind a wall in this house. That includes this."

Graham grinned slowly.

Owen went red to the roots of his hair and looked at his hands.

Caleb didn't move at all.

Warren looked at me, and his face had gone completely blank.

It was the blankness of a man standing very still on a roof in the wind.

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