“I used to think I loved you,” I say, looking around the squat room. He’s lived here longer than even Rufus has been alive. “You were the closest thing we ever had to a real father. A grandfather, maybe.” Danner reaches for the cup. “Then I couldn’t die prouder.” But I watch him take it, lifting the mug to his lips, and decide, “It was a lie. You were too loyal to him to defend us. To protect us. To save us.” I watch his throat swell with the first gulp, stomach twisting. “I wanted to love you because I wanted to be loved, and I didn’t know what it looked like—felt like.”
Oh, my poor wicker
