Lucas didn’t speak. Neither did his father. Then the doorbell rang. They both turned their heads. Lucas’s heart gave a strange jolt. His dad stood first, hesitated, then walked slowly toward the front of the house. Lucas followed behind, his hands cold.
The door opened. Daniel stood on the porch, holding his coat in one hand and a tension in his shoulders that matched the one in the air. His eyes met Lucas’s father’s. “Hi, Mark,” Daniel said. Lucas’s dad—Mark—didn’t speak at first. He just stared, then gave a shallow nod. “Daniel.” “I think we need to talk,” Daniel said.