Ryan even gave me a small, relieved grin. Warren ruffled his own hair and said softly, “Good. I hate when you’re mad at us.”
They stepped further into the room then, the tension draining from them like they’d passed some unspoken test.
But then they both froze. Their eyes landed on the stacked suitcases by the wall — neat and ready, like soldiers waiting for orders.
Those hadn’t been there this morning.
They spoke at the same time. “What’s that?”
I followed their gaze and then looked back at them, my tone just as casual as before.
“Oh,” I said. “I quit being your father’s strategist. Change of career path. Something different this time.” The words hung there, heavy.
Ryan’s brow furrowed deeply, and Warren’s jaw went slack as he stared at me. I could see the confusion in their eyes. I’d loved that job. Everyone knew it. I’d poured everything into it.
Why suddenly quit?
Why now?
They exchanged an uneasy glance, like two wolves who’ve caught the faintest scent of blood but can’t yet find the source.
Warren opened his mouth, clearly about to press me for more — but before he could, Ryan’s phone buzzed sharply in his pocket.