Alarm flashes across Violet’s expression. “So you know who I am?” Henry pauses as if to consider his answer. “I don’t think you’re Scott’s daughter.” “You’re right, I’m not.” She hesitates. “I’m yours.” Henry blinks several times, the only sign that she’s caught him off guard. “So now we’re playing this game, are we?” he says, his voice edged with cold calm. “It’s not a game. You’re my father.”
