Daniel looked back at the video.
Then slowly sat down again.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Finally, he whispered:
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew?”
“Not about Jenna.”
“You suspected Dad?”
I nodded.
“Late nights.”
“Hiding his phone.”
“Perfume.”
Daniel gave a short laugh.
A broken one.
“Perfume.”
Then he covered his face.
“I bought her that perfume.”
I put my hand on his back.
After a minute, he looked at me.
“Show me everything.”
So I did.
The message I had found on our shared tablet.
Tonight at 8. Same place. Daniel’s on his night shift.
Daniel read it twice.
“Same place.”
“Yes.”
“So it wasn’t the first time.”
“No.”
He looked toward my father’s headstone.
Then said:
“Grandpa hated Dad.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“He didn’t hate him.”
“He absolutely hated him.”
“He thought your father was arrogant.”
Daniel looked at me.
