With a quiet resolve, Simon calmly stepped between us, his presence a barrier against the storm that had blown into our lives. The room was tense, crackling with unsaid words and the kind of anger that can only exist when betrayal comes from those you love. My heart pounded in my chest, but Simon’s calm steadied me. He addressed my family with a voice that was both firm and gentle, the way he’d speak to our daughter when she was too close to the edge of the waves.
“We’re going to have to ask you to leave,” he said simply, as if he were suggesting a change in dinner plans. But there was no mistaking the iron underneath his words.
My father shifted his weight, the key still clutched in his fist. “This is family business, Simon,” he began, his tone dismissive. But Simon’s gaze didn’t waver.
