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Apparently, my husband’s most trusted man now earns a dinner invitation, while the rest of his men stand out front, pretending to admire the fountain.

Then Laszlo reaches me. He bends and kisses me softly. This isn’t on the agenda, dammit. A quiet murmur of approval goes down the table. To them, it looks like devotion. The problem is it feels like devotion to me too, and I wasn't ready for that.

"Ma macabre," he says against my mouth. "How was your day?"

"Long. Yours?"

"Fine." He sits, shakes out his napkin, then reaches for the wine. "Eat your appetizer. Your mother's watching."

I eat my appetizer.

He asks my father about the roses. He asks Constantine whether the Audi's due a service. He tells my mother the lamb smells wonderful.

“You look tired,” she says, looking much the same herself.

“It’s the season,” Laszlo replies. “Business is booming.”

I listen to the chatter with my fork in my hand, waiting for him to look at me … and he doesn't.

"Nothing to say about this morning?" I ask, quietly, under-the-table talk.

He butters a piece of bread.

"You wanted my attention. You have it."

"Your basement looked different when I left it."

"It looks fine now."

"The towels."

"Folded."

"The scalpels. The tools."

"Largest to smallest. Lined perfectly. Thank you for asking."

Nothing. Not a flicker. He is buttering bread. I try the last one, the one I know is real, and keep my voice light.

"You couldn't find me."

His glass stops halfway to his mouth for the briefest of moments. Then he drinks, sets the glass down, and turns to Rafe to ask whether the gate camera's been fixed.

But I saw it. I know exactly where I drove that knife, and how I twisted it.

"So," my father says, down the table. "A honeymoon. Are you planning one?"

"We've been so busy," I start.

"I'm planning something special for my wife," Laszlo says. "Somewhere quiet. I've already chosen the spot."

"How romantic," says his mother.

"I'm a romantic man," he agrees.

"He really is," I tell the table. "He's always thinking of me. Sometimes I feel like he's with me even when he's not there."

"In fact," Laszlo says, reaching into his jacket, "since both families are here, I have something to share."