Mark didn’t answer.
Ana shoved the gun against his shoulder.
“Did Mateo call you?”
“Yes.”
The word came out barely above a whisper.
“What did he say?” she asked.
“He said the hotel was recording guests again. He wanted evidence.”
“And what did you do?”
“I told him to leave it alone.”
Ana’s hand began shaking.
“You knew what Victor could do.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my brother was in danger.”
“Yes.”
“And you did nothing.”
Mark’s voice broke.
“I had a family.”
Ana struck him across the face.
He fell against the wall.
I flinched but didn’t stop her.
For seven years, I had believed Mark’s greatest flaw was avoiding conflict.
He left dishes beside the sink because he hated being asked to redo them.
He ignored overdue notices until I handled them.
He postponed hard conversations until they became arguments.
