Lance lowered the gun after a long moment, his expression tightening when Crystal placed her hand on his arm. He looked at her, at the blindfold, at the faint sharpness in her features that had not been there before. Then he slowly let go of the gun, disappearing into particles of light before it hit the ground, though his eyes stayed locked on Luna and Greg.
Crystal stepped between them. "Dad. Please. They are with me."
He said nothing at first. He only looked at them for a long moment before finally nodding once. "Fine. But you and I are going to talk. There is too much that has happened while you were gone."
Crystal crossed her arms, still tense. "Then talk."
Lance ran a hand down his face and reached for the half-empty glass of whiskey before thinking better of it. He set it back down and leaned against the edge of his desk. His shoulders sagged, but when he spoke, there was an edge to his words, a tightness that had nothing to do with anger.
