When the doorbell rang, Cynthia opened looking like a ghost. His eyes immediately spotted the smudged lipstick on her face and with one quick assessment, he concluded that the rest of her clothes looked fine.
Panicking, Robert's arms went ahead and brought the woman he considered a true daughter closer to his chest. The coldness of her face made no sense in the still-warm summer weather, and it was severe enough to seep through the fabric of his shirt.
"This is all my fault," her father in law said with a tone full of regret.
Cynthia had nothing to say to that because it was the truth, had Robert been with Henry at the funeral, her ex would not have collapsed mentally to the degree of pointing a gun to his head. But she couldn't deny her in laws their right to choose how to handle the situation given the ID of the deceased.
This was Sylvia Green after all. What she did to Robert was unforgivable.
