CHAPTER 6: The Nephew With Clean Hands

Preston stepped out with both palms lifted.
“Caleb,” he said, forcing warmth into a voice that had suddenly gone thin. “Thank God. Your father wandered from the car. We were trying to help him.”
Camilla climbed out more slowly, one hand pressed to her throat. In the sedan mirror, she had looked shocked. In the open air, she tried to look concerned.
Caleb did not answer them immediately.
He crossed the road, took off his suit jacket, and placed it around Elias’s shoulders. The gesture was quiet. That made it worse for Preston, because love without performance always exposes performance for what it is.
“Dad,” Caleb said, “did he leave you here?”
Elias looked at Preston. “He brought papers first.”