She stared at him in disbelief.
“Damon, listen to me!”
“No.” His voice was suddenly quiet. “You told me he attacked you. You watched me scream at a seventy-eight-year-old man without even giving him a chance to explain.”
“He deserved it!”
The words escaped her before she could stop them.
Everyone froze.
Even she seemed startled by what she had just said.
Evelyn slowly turned her head.
“He deserved it?”
The woman swallowed.
“I didn't mean—”
“YOU SAID HE DESERVED IT!” Evelyn shouted. “My father stood here trying to defend himself while you turned him into a criminal in his own home!”
Damon released the woman's wrist and stepped away from her.
“Why did you do it?” he demanded. “What did Walter ever do to you?”
The woman looked from Damon to Evelyn, searching desperately for an ally.
Then her eyes settled on Walter.
For the first time, her expression wasn't angry or frightened.
It was resentful.
“Because he wouldn't give me what I wanted,” she snapped.
Walter closed his eyes briefly.
Damon stared at her.
“What did you want?”
She laughed bitterly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“Ask him. Ask your precious old man why he came here today.”
Evelyn moved beside her father.
“Don't try to change the subject.”
“I'm not changing anything!” the woman shouted. “He walked into this house carrying that ridiculous old bag, acting like he had some right to tell us how to live!”
Walter opened his eyes.
“I never asked you for anything.”
“You expected Damon to listen to you!”
“Because he promised he would.”
Damon looked at Walter sharply.
“What promise?”
Walter reached into the pocket of his worn brown jacket and withdrew a small, sealed envelope.
He held it out.
Damon didn't take it.
“What is that?”
“Something your father asked me to deliver.”
The room seemed to lose its air.
Damon's father had been dead for three years.
The woman in yellow went completely still.
Evelyn looked at the envelope, then at her father.
“Dad… what is going on?”