You stand up so fast your chair slams backward into the wall.
For a second, the glow of the security monitor is the only thing keeping the room from turning black around the edges. Onscreen, the man your father called “family” is standing in your study like he belongs there, twirling the backup key to your safe between two fingers while your wife cleans the living room in silence. Then he smiles at her and says, “Just hold on a little longer. It’s almost time.”
That is when you know this was never about hospitality.
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