Page 90 of Ugly Truths
In a desperate attempt to escape the mansion and the past few days, we're at Natalie and Danny's, sitting at their dining table. Silas is focused entirely on the glass of whiskey in front of him, his fingers circling its rim in slow, idle patterns.
Dinner has come and gone, the empty plates cleared away, leaving an untouched cheesecake as the lone centerpiece. The silence stretching between us is broken only by the occasional clink of a glass or the subtle scrape of a chair shifting against the floor.
It’s unbearable, waiting for this quiet collapse. Silas isn’t the life of the party on his best days, but at least in those moments, hehaslife. I want to shake him, but instead, I have to wait for the moment when the last of his sanity snaps.
“We need to do something,” Natalie finally says, of her words drawing our attention like a magnet. Her bloodshot eyes lock on her brother. Davey, who had already moved closer to her during dinner, shifts nearer.
Silas leans back in his chair. When he finally speaks, his voice sounds borrowed. “What would you like to do, Nat?”
“He needs to answer for what he’s done. I don’t care how, but he has to face it.” She exhales sharply, her arms tightening across her chest. “And if he won’t, then he’s too much of a threat to be left unchecked.”
Silas’s hand stills on the glass as he stares at her. “Are you saying you want to—”
“I’m not saying Iwantto do anything,” she interrupts, “I’m talking about what weneedto do.”
The air leaves the room.
Davey's lips press into a thin line. “That feels like a big leap,” he admits quietly.
Natalie’s eyes shoot toward him. “You know my father as well as I do. You see what he’s doing. There are no leaps left to make. We have to talk through every possible outcome, because he might not give us a choice.”
I search Silas’s profile for some kind of reaction. His jaw works, and the flicker of something dark in his eyes makes my stomach twist.
“You’d do that to your own father?” Silas asks.
Natalie turns back to her brother. “He stopped being my father the moment he decided human lives were expendable.” Her palms flatten on the table, one landing on her abandoned napkin. It crumples under her fingers as they contract. “He made his choice.”
Silas’s shoulders visibly coil, but he doesn’t argue. There’s something about the way he examines her that confirms the fear I didn’t dare voice.
“You’ve thought about this,” I whisper.
Silas shifts his soulless eyes to me and it takes everything in me not to shrink away. He stares for a beat too long before looking at Natalie again. Davey’s face drains of color.
“He could refuse to atone.”
Natalie straightens in her chair. “Then we do what needs to be done.” Her voice drops, but the words maintain their bite.
Silas rests his elbows on the edge of the table, hands clasped tightly in front of him. “You’re asking me to make that choice.”
“No,” she says, quieter now. “I’m asking you to help me see Dad for what he is and decide if he’s worth saving at all.”
The sag in Silas's shoulders is almost imperceivable, but he nods.
Davey’s gaze darts back and forth between his wife and brother-in-law before landing on me. The panic in his green irises has to be a reflection of what's in mine, but I’m just as frozen as he is.
“We’ll give him the chance to answer for this.” Silas agrees. “But if he refuses…”
Natalie nods, her gaze softening just slightly as she reaches across the table and places her hand on his. “We’ll do it together.”
No.
Her anger burns so brightly, so fiercely, and I can’t deny that I understand it. I feel it too. William deserves to pay for what he’s done, for the lives he’s destroyed, for the people he’s treated like disposable assets. But even if they stop William and do what’s necessary, they’ll have to live with the guilt for the rest of their lives.
I open my mouth to speak, but Silas’s waiting glare chokes the words in my throat.
There is no arguing with him on this, and anyone who tries to deter him will become an enemy—even me.
My jaw clamps shut, fingers twisting in my lap to keep them from shaking. The untouched cheesecake in the center blurs as my eyes sting with unshed tears.
