"Philip," Elena started, her voice heavy with a sorrow that went deeper than anger.
But he cut her off, his voice a torrent of long-held bitterness. "In that house, I never felt at ease," he spat, the venom dripping from his every word. "Not for one day. Not among that woman and her children. And it was all because of you, Grandmother." He leaned forward, the ugly bruises on his face making his sneer even more pronounced. "If you hadn't brought that woman into our lives, if you and Father hadn't abandoned my mother, tossing her aside the moment she died… I wouldn't have turned out like this. You made me this way."
The accusation, so full of misguided certainty, seemed to suck the air from the room. "We abandoned your mother?" Elena asked, her voice a shocked whisper.
"Didn't you?" Philip shot back.
