He knew that expression.
It was the expression she wore at school when she scraped her knee but didn’t want other children to see her cry.
“You can sit with me,” he said.
Poppy looked toward Viola.
Cassian waited until she looked back.
“You don’t need to check.”
He pulled out the chair beside his own.
She climbed into it.
Miriam brought water.
Cassian remained crouched beside her rather than returning to the head of the table.
“Would you like everyone to stay, or would you prefer somewhere quieter?”
Poppy considered the guests.
Helena.
Her grandfather’s cousin.
Two people she barely knew.
“Quieter.”
“All right.”
Viola stepped forward.
“We haven’t eaten.”
Cassian stood.
“Then the kitchen can send food to the sitting room.”
“You’re encouraging this.”
He faced her.
“What exactly do you think I’m encouraging?”
She looked at Poppy.
Cassian moved slightly, bringing her attention back to him.
“Answer me.”
Viola folded her arms.
“She’s been demanding attention all week.”
Miriam answered before he could.
“She was trying to find out why her father had stopped wanting to speak to her.”
Helena rose.
“I’ll help everyone with their coats.”
Cassian looked toward his sister.
She nodded once.
No further explanation was needed.
He took Poppy’s hand and went with her to the sitting room.
Behind them, Viola began insisting that nobody needed to leave.
Nobody sat back down.
Poppy chose the sofa near the window.
Miriam sat at the other end.
Cassian took the low chair opposite them.
He wanted answers so badly that he could feel the questions pressing against his teeth.
When did it start?
What exactly did Viola say?
Why didn’t somebody contact his work number?
He looked at his daughter’s tightly folded hands and kept most of those questions to himself.
“Do you want dinner first?”
She shook her head.
