“What?” he cries as he screws up his face in disgust. “You think that you’re acting on behalf of Dad?” he scoffs. I put my hands on my hips. “What is that supposed to mean?” “Dad sent Tristan for us, Mom.” His eyes search mine. “Don’t you see?” he yells. “Dad was the one who found Tristan and sent him to us.” His eyes well with tears. “What the hell would a man like Tristan Miles want with us . . . if Dad hadn’t arranged it in heaven?” he cries.
Damn he ate
