“We?”
“I married around the time Ginny took off with you. I have children of my own now.” His eyes veered away from mine.
Fuck. He was uncomfortable. This sounded like acquaintances trying to rediscover what had brought them together in the first place. Thomas Wolfe wasn’t f*****g around when he said you can’t go home again.
“They’re…uh…they range in age from thirty-five to twenty-two. I’m a grandfather, Mark.” His laughter sounded forced. “Can you believe that?”
That meant he’d been about twenty-one. Why the f**k had he left me with her? Why hadn’t he—
It didn’t matter. What was, was.
“When did you find out I worked for Huntingdon?” I’d known about him. Even before I’d been recruited by the WBIS, I’d had the resources to trace my family—Odd that nothing about my father had ever come
