That was almost the worst detail.

She took it the way you’d take a coaster off a table, without heat, and tossed it underhand onto the far sofa, where it landed against a cushion and slid down into the crack.

Gemma watched it go.

Her mouth came open and then closed again.

Her bottom lip started to go and she caught it with her teeth, and Chadworth watched his six-year-old daughter physically stop herself from crying — a skill she had learned somewhere, from someone, in his house.

“I’m tired of saying the same things every day,” Sabina said.