Finn pauses, considering, then draws in a deep breath through his nose. “I was regular Army and stationed in Baghdad, like your father,” he says. “A lot of grunts didn’t think too highly of the National Guard, thought they were a bunch of weekend warriors playing soldier. Me, I didn’t care. We were all dropped into a country that didn’t want us there. All of us knee-deep in the same chaos. So I didn’t give a shit whether or not a guy was National Guard or regular Army or the Salvation Army—as long as he did his job and had my six, I’d have his.

“Now, your dad was a good guy. Cared about his men, knew how to be an officer without being a prick. He wasn’t interested in sucking up to the CPA or setting himself up for a cushy career at the Pentagon. He just wanted to do his job and get back home.” Finn scratches his jaw. “He talked about his family. Talked about the two of you. Said you were both whip-smart. Said Ethan read everything under the sun and that Susannah was going to be a hell-raiser.” He levels his eyes at me. “He always smiled when he said that about you, though, so I don’t think he meant it as a criticism. He loved you both. You and your mother.”

Ethan’s face is as flat and closed as a stone door. I hope mine looks the same way. When our father came home from Iraq, he was haunted and prone to mood swings, and that was what he was like for the last year of his life. That version of Dad, along with his murder, is the one that’s burned into my memory. But Finn is reminding both of us about a different Dad, about the time before. I want to hear more, and at the same time I want Finn to stop because it’s like someone scraping a knife against bone. I wonder if Ethan feels the same, then realize I don’t need to wonder—of course he does. How else could you feel?

Ethan leans forward in his chair. “None of that explains why you called our father a thief,” he says.

“I’m just trying to explain,” Finn says. “Setting the scene.”

“Pushing our buttons,” I say. “Manipulating us so we’ll be more likely to believe you.”

Finn shrugs. “Everybody manipulates everyone else. A husband trying to get his wife in the mood, a guy trying to sell his neighbor a car, a kid wanting his parents to take him to the movies. You trying to get me to skip to the end of my story so you can dismiss it. That’s just being human. It’s how we’re wired. But anyway.” He pats his knees as if he’s about to stand up and say goodbye. Instead, he’s settling in.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN