It's Thomas.
"Am I interrupting?" His voice is rough with pain and exhaustion.
"No." Tony doesn't let go of me, but turns so we can both see his father. "Come in."
Thomas moves slowly, favoring his injured shoulder. He looks older tonight, the silver hair more gray than distinguished. The lines around his eyes are deeper.
"Your grandmother," he says finally, "would be proud of you. Both of you." He looks at me specifically. "She always said the Marvin family needed someone to save us from ourselves. I thought she meant another criminal. Someone strategic and ruthless." A slight smile. "Turns out she meant a banker with a moral compass."
"I'm not saving anyone," I protest. "I'm just-"
