For a moment, the living room was exceptionally quiet.
Jasmine Yale saw in his eyes a compelling coldness, sharpened with a gleam of chill.
"She told me everything she knew, true or false," Jasmine Yale said faintly, "I think, you know too. But you never told me, did you?"
"Mr. Cheney, you knew the whole truth last year, but you didn't say a word to me. I don't know whether to praise you for your deep schemes or your tight-lipped secrecy. You really keep everything from me, never telling me anything..."
"Mr. Cheney, I know my relationship with you isn't that close, and you really don't need to tell me everything. But why do you keep things that are about me from me?"
Jasmine Yale struggled to control her emotions, her heart fluctuating wildly.
She was afraid of Sylvan Cheney; it had been a long time since she had questioned him like this.
She confronted him, asking a series of questions.
She didn't want to be unclear about her mother's issues.
