“We’ll take them, Mr. DeFiore.”

He appraises us, one by one. “If we do go to trial, it will take a lot to get ready. Not on my side—on yours. A trial is like a staged play in front of an audience. It happens in real time, so there’s no room for error. Each of you is part of the cast, even if all you do is sit in the gallery. You’ll be scrutinized as closely as the principal actors. You’ll need to work hard to prepare. Listen. Take notes. Rehearse. Follow directions down to the letter.”

“We’re up for it,” Nate promises. “Whatever we need to do.”

“Let me think about it.” Again, DeFiore glances my way, but I study my hands. I can barely sit still. The God-awful twitching is killing me.

* * *

On the way home, Lawrence and Eleanor are snapping at each other. Like a summer squall, the air in the car grows dark and foreboding then the skies split apart.

“I don’t appreciate the way you kept interrupting me, Eleanor,” Lawrence says sharply. “You may disagree, but at least let me finish my sentence.”

Eleanor glances out the window. Her eyes are hidden behind large sunglasses, but there’s the hint of a smirk on her lips. “Lawrence, I don’t appreciate you jeopardizing my son’s future.”

“Our son. If anyone is jeopardizing Billy’s future, it’s you. You’re jeopardizing all our futures. Why would you let Cassie and Nate testify? They’re not DeFiore’s clients. Billy is. DeFiore has no reason to protect the rest of us.”

“We don’t need his protection! None of us is hiding anything—except you, maybe.”

“What am I hiding? We’ve been married for thirty fucking years.”

“Let’s start with your money issues, your job issues, your crazy foundation—”

“What money issues?” Lawrence’s eyes widen. He looks genuinely bewildered.

“It seems to me that a man who is unable to provide for his family, a man who is dependent on his wife to feed himself and his children might have a few money issues.” She adjusts her glasses. “Just a thought.”

The color drains from Lawrence’s face. His breathing grows ragged. For one shocking second, he is wholly unfamiliar, a man who’ll rear back and roar. Instead, he glances behind him, at me and my brothers. Then his anger flickers and goes out, like a blown light bulb.

Cracking his window, Lawrence lets in a gust of hot air. For a partnership to endure, he once told me, one person has to be the peacemaker. Someone has to take it on the chin. “Eleanor,” he says softly. “I don’t want to argue. We’re all we have. We’ll work this out.”

“Of course we will.” She stares at the passing scenery. “Of that I have no doubt.”