sixth week, Nathaniel Bennett had been found.
He arrived at the courthouse wearing a wrinkled shirt, old boots, and the haunted expression of a man who had driven through the night rehearsing apologies no one had asked to hear.
I saw him in the hallway before the hearing.
He had Evan’s eyes.
That alone made me dislike and pity him at once.
“You’re Steel,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I’m Nathan.”
“I know.”
His gaze shifted away. “I didn’t know about the kids. Not really. Evan and I hadn’t talked much.”
“Why?”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Because I was an idiot. Because family can go quiet so long that pride starts sounding like peace.”
That answer was too honest to dismiss.
“Claire told them you didn’t want them.”
Pain crossed his face. “She told me Evan wanted distance. After the funeral, I called twice. She didn’t answer. I should’ve
