Neil didn't need to be told twice, but he didn't get far. Jean turned back on him before Neil had finished pushing in his chair and beckoned for him to listen. His French was almost too fast for Neil to follow, but Neil understood more than he wanted to.

"Riko will have a few minutes of your time later," Jean said. "I suggest you speak with him if you do not want everyone to know you are the Butcher's son."

Hearing his father's name aloud was a kick in the chest. The noise Kevin made at his side was worse. Neil reacted without thinking, clapping a hand to Kevin's chest and shoving him as far back from the table as he could. Kevin stumbled back so fast he almost fell. Neil didn't look back at him, but he couldn't tune out Kevin's hoarse denial.

"That's not true."

"Shut up," Neil said, but he didn't know which one of them he was speaking to. "Don't say anything else."

"Run along," Jean said. "It's what you're best at, isn't it?"

Wymack stayed behind to deal with Edgar Allan and the Foxes cleared out of there like their lives depended on it. They attracted a lot of curious stares as they crossed the room to Abby, but the Foxes were too busy watching Kevin and Neil to return any of it. Abby and Blackwell's coach walked them to their new table. They'd switched seats with the coaches. It put the Foxes on the outskirts of the event, but Neil doubted any of them really minded.

They settled in the same order they'd been in at the last table, but Kevin sat sideways to stare at Neil. He seized Neil's chin in an iron grip and turned Neil's face toward him. Neil wanted to fight it, but there wasn't a point anymore. He watched Kevin, waiting for recognition to sink in. On its heels was sick fear. Neil clenched his hands together under the table where no one could see his fingers shake.

Kevin opened his mouth, but Neil didn't want to hear it. He didn't know what Kevin was going to say and, more importantly, he didn't know what language it would be in. Neil spoke first in quiet but strained French.

"No, Kevin. Not here. You and I will talk tomorrow."

Kevin hesitated. "Does Andrew know?"

"He knows only pieces of it," Neil said. "He doesn't know my name."

"Does he know who you are?"

"I said no." Neil wrenched Kevin's hand off his face. "We're not doing this here."

Kevin stared at him a few seconds longer, then got out of his chair almost fast enough to take the whole table with him. Abby was at his side in a heartbeat, expression pinched with worry. Kevin couldn't seem to manage words, but he gestured for her to follow and started for the door. Abby took a step after him, then hesitated, torn.