“But what I cannot understand,” Arthur growled, “is how this happened. I was told you were at the company party. I was told there were drivers available. Why in God’s name was your secretary driving my granddaughter-in-law while intoxicated?”
Danica, sitting across from me, shrank into her chair. She was wearing a modest black dress, looking every bit the repentant sinner. She had been invited because she was "family," a decision that made my stomach churn.
“It was a mistake, sir,” Danica whispered, her voice trembling. “I… I thought I was fine to drive. I just wanted to help Karylle get home.”
“Help her?” Arthur slammed his hand on the table, making the silverware jump. “You put her in the hospital! You killed my heir! You call that help?”
“Grandpa, please,” Nathan interjected, leaning forward. His jaw was tight. “Calm down. It’s not doing anyone any good to point fingers. Danica feels terrible. She’s been beating herself up about it for days. It was an accident. The roads were slick.”
“The roads were fine!” Arthur barked. “The driver was the problem. Why didn’t you drive, Nathan? Or hire a car?”