Henry’s father continued to stare at her.“But why are you here?”Sandrine knew the man understood why she was there.“Henry is my son, is he not...”“No!”Sandrine took a step forward.“You would deny it, sir?”Henry interrupted his stare at Sandrine and turned to his father.“Father? Is this true? How—”Henry’s father made a comforting noise and put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. Sandrine saw pain the father’s eyes but he was not immediately hostile.“You will excuse my son, please. Perhaps we could. You've been tired and when you come home from work, you don't drink. Twoplus two, Am..." She had a self-satisfied smile.Which Margaret shot down. "Enough, Stefanie. She's not drinking andshe's resting and she's going to the doctor. She's doing what she'ssupposed to do."Esme looked at Amber, who looked as if she had shrunk in on herself."Thanks, ma."Margaret stood with her arms crossed. "So what does shithead have tosay?" You need to ask?" Amber said, half defiantly and half dejectedly. . More

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