“Don’t worry about it. You’re just here to keep things fair–focus on what matters, Chelsea said, waving it off like it was nothing.
Atticus, who’d spent years in the military, didn’t take interruptions lightly. When Chelsea cut him off. he shot her a re that could freezeva. “Did I say I was talking about you?”
He turned back to her, voice clipped. “You’ve got <b>a </b>perfectly good family business waiting for you, but instead you run off to do research. You’re broke, scraping by, and still asking your family for money at
your age.”
Chelsea just rolled her eyes and leaned back.
Then Atticus shifted his attention to Patricia. “What do you think?”
Patricia’s voice was steady. “It’s a little bloody.”
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“Go on,” Atticus said.
She didn’t blink. “I want to ruin his hand.”
The food had barely hit the table when the private dining room door swung open. Ben stepped in with Joseph, and a couple of Atticus’s old military buddies followed behind, awkward as peacekeepers.
Atticus had gotten the lowdown on Ben from one of those men the night before. Now, the guy was standing in the doorway, trying to smooth things over, but you could tell by the way everyone talked:
Ben was in the wrong.
Patricia stayed mostly silent, sitting quietly in her wheelchair with a polite, almost distant smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
When the conversation turned serious, Atticus looked at her. “Patricia, what do you think?”
Patricia’s gazended on Joseph, her tone frosty. “Mr. Miller hasn’t even apologized. What exactly am I supposed to say?” <fn5b1a> Official source is Find~Novel</fn5b1a>
Joseph realized she was calling him out. He hurried over, bent at the waist. “Ms. Martin, I’m sorry. I was impulsive and I didn’t think. Please, I hope you can forgive me.”
Patricia didn’t answer. The room went quiet, the tension thick enough to taste. Joseph stayed bowing, too nervous to look up, while everyone waited.
Almost ten minutes ticked by before Patricia finally spoke, her voice calm but cutting. “If all it takes to fix a mistake is a quick apology, then mistakes must be pretty cheap.”
“Your wife slept with my husband. You, Mr. Miller, attacked me in public. Uncle, if I just let this go, what does that make me? A pushover. A joke.”
Atticus’s face darkened at that.
The silence grew heavier.
Patricia looked at Ben. “I’m not even talking about friendship here–just the fact that I was there for you once. Is this how you repay me?”
13:27
“You’re right, you’re right. Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I failed <b>as </b>a father,” Ben said,
head down.
“Yeah, you did. Your son’s a mess, and so is your da
your daughter.”
Atticus set his ss down and leveled Ben with the kind of stare that made people stand straighter. “Work is important, but so is raising your family right. My sister died and left me with just this one niece. After all the help I gave your family, your son humiliates her? When I’m gone, how could I <b>face </b>my family?”
“Don’t worry, sir. The Miller family will make this right for you and Ms. Martin,” Ben promised, nodding over and over. As long as Atticus was around, nobody wanted to cross the Parsons family.
Ben followed Atticus’s gaze to Joseph’s hand. He hesitated, jaw set, but he knew there was no way out unless he went along. With a heavy sigh, he walked over, grabbed Joseph’s hand, and pressed it to the doorframe. Then he mmed the heavy wooden door. The crack of bone and Joseph’s scream split the air, echoing through the stunned silence.