The family engaged in minimal conversation during the first half of dinner; then Henry set his napkin next to his plate and took hold of the table with both hands, and Amala could feel it coming. He glanced at her as if to warn her; then he looked directly at her father and said, “There’s something I need to say.” He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Kat had a fairly lucid conversation with me and Amala today. I fear it could well be her last, not only because of the evidence of her growing weakness and pain, but because of what she said. I suspect she now feels that she can go in peace.” He took another deep breath, and Amala sensed the expectation of her parents and her aunt. “I’m well aware that Paulina knows the truth about the situation between me and Amala prior to her leaving. But neither Amala nor I knew that the two of you”—he glanced at both Viola and Oliver but kept his gaze mostly fixed on Oliver—“knew all along what we had believed we’d been able to keep secret.”

“Oh, my,” Paulina said quietly and also set her napkin down. In fact, no one was eating anything at all.

Henry forged ahead, and Amala was grateful at least that he’d taken the lead and was handling this. “She also told us her final wish but made us promise to do as she wished before she told us what it was. And she told us that you were both well aware of her desires and that it’s in her will.”

“That’s right,” Oliver said, taking his wife’s hand across the table. “And how do you feel about that?”

“How do I feel?” Henry countered, clearly angry but not speaking disrespectfully. “My wife is dying. I can’t even begin to process any other circumstance beyond that. There are, however, a couple of things I want made clear, so there is no room for any misconceptions about all of this.”

“Say whatever you need to say,” Oliver said with a compassion in his tone that indicated he had no difficulty understanding why Henry would be so upset.

“First of all, I need you to know—all of you—that I let go of my feelings for Amala long before I married Kat. I was never divided in my love for her or my—”

“You don’t have to tell us that, son,” Oliver said, and Viola nodded in agreement with her husband. “We know you. Enough said.”