“Oh God,” Joel said. “I’m so sorry.”

“My mother got back in touch with her family when I was around seven, and insisted on me and Sarah, my sister, spending time with them. My father hated that. Well, so did I: they were mostly dreadful to us. Paul’s mother was particularly vile, and he was a shocking bully, but I rather liked my grandmother: she was a fierce, proud old woman. She detested my father. She paid for my schooling, Harrow. I didn’t like it—Paul was there too, and made it very clear I oughtn’t be—and my father loathed the very idea, but Mother put her foot down.”

“It sounds like you couldn’t please anyone.”

“No,” Aaron said. “I couldn’t. Too common for the Napier-Foxes, too stuck-up for the Fowlers, and too visibly foreign for my father to forget, even for a second, what a good thing he’d done in taking me on.”

“Shit.”

“Mother died when I was thirteen. Grandmama died a few years after, and left me a generous legacy. She left Sarah nothing: she said that since her father despised the Napier-Fox family so greatly, he wouldn’t want them funding his child.”

“Oof.”

“It was spiteful. But she had outlived her daughter and missed the greater part of her life, and I suppose she preferred spite to regret. Happy families. Anyway, my father made it clear that he didn’t want a penny of my legacy. He had provided for me all my life, another man’s child, without ever asking for anything and he didn’t expect any return for it now. So I told him that was an admirable attitude, and by the way, I was joining the Met.”

“Just as a slap at him?”

“No,” Aaron said. “Or, not only. I really did want to do something useful.”

“To sacrifice yourself thanklessly for others?” Joel suggested.

“Ouch. No, I truly wanted to serve. I believe in service, and I believe there ought to be law and justice, and someone has to make that happen. I thought the police was the answer to everything that felt wrong. But also, yes. I knew very well my father would be furious, and indeed he was. He never spoke to me again.”

“Actually never spoke?”

“I last saw him at my sister’s wedding. I said hello, and he turned and walked away. He died earlier this year. I told Sarah that I would come to see him if he wanted me to, but he refused. He didn’t want to set eyes on me.”

Joel put his fork down and reached across the table, covering Aaron’s hand with his own. “I’m so sorry. I really am.”