DEBORAH'S POV
I was still staring at my phone when I heard footsteps in the hallway. The door to Father's study creaked open, and I quickly wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I shoved the cognac bottle behind a stack of papers on the desk, but I knew I reeked of alcohol.
"What are you doing here?" I asked without looking up.
"Because my son wouldn't come."
I turned around to find Lana standing in the doorway. She looked perfectly put together in a black dress that probably cost more than most people's cars. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and she wore that expression she always had when she was about to say something that would cut me to the bone.
"You know why he won't come?" she asked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.
I didn't answer. I couldn't trust my voice not to crack.
"Because he's a fool," she said, walking closer to where I sat. "But then again, men always are when it comes to matters of the heart."
