Page 451 of Ruthless Court
“Excuse me?”
“No draft talk.”
Another finger.
“No asking me about Stanford's offense.”
Another.
“No turning dinner into an interrogation about my shooting percentage.”
“This is my house.”
“Exactly.”
I lean forward.
“It needs to be about her.”
That shuts him up.
“I want to know her mom.”
My voice softens.
“I want to see her bedroom and whatever embarrassing childhood pictures she hasn't destroyed.”
“That collection is extensive.”
“Perfect.”
“I want to play Uno.”
He stares.
“Uno.”
“Checkers.”
“You play checkers?”
“No idea. I'll learn.”
His mouth twitches.
“Hallmark movies.”
Now he laughs.
A real laugh.
“You?”
“For Hannah.”
“She's going to torture you.”
“I expect it.”
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