CIAN
I looked between them—these two people who had raised Fia and failed her so completely. Who had let one daughter torture another under their own roof. Who had the audacity to come here and demand to see her like they had any right.
"I'll tell you what I want." I paused. Let the silence stretch. "Fia told me what her favorite food is. Something her mother used to make for her with her own recipe. She says no one could ever get it right." I kept my eyes on Isobel. "But yours was manageable."
I pulled out my phone, opened the notes app. The screen glowed between us.
"I want the recipe. The exact way you prepare it. Written here."
The confusion that crossed their faces was almost comical. Joseph's brow furrowed. Isobel's mouth opened slightly, then closed again. They looked at each other, then back at me. Like they were trying to find the trick, the hidden blade in my words.
I held the phone out. Waited.
"Too lax?" I asked.
"No." Joseph's response came fast. "I apologize."
