The two of you came here in your night clothes, and the very first thing you did was force a consent form into my hands.
And in all of that — not once — did either of you ask what he was doing in another woman’s home in the middle of the night.”
I watched that sentence land on them, and I watched them realize that the not-asking was itself an answer.
Because they had known.
Not the details, not the tampering, not how close to a mortuary their son had come — but they had known about Carys, in the way families know things they have decided not to look at directly.
The matching hoodies in the company photo.