Lila
She was sobbing before it was halfway through.
She'd known. Chris couldn't know that: she'd known about this day, about what Dane had done. He'd admitted it that night back in the apartment when he tried to warn her about what his father was like, how sick things got around him. He'd broken down, shaking and fighting tears, describing not only his fear, but his actions—his ruthlessness, his pretended thrill. He'd broken himself down in front of her and then sworn to her that he'd never regretted anything more than the things he'd done being his father's son. And she'd known it was true. And she'd seen the man he'd become because of it.
But she hadn't expected to have to witness it. To know his father filmed these things. Probably had a entire trove of home movies featuring Dane. And that he was bringing them out now—decades later…
It was overwhelming.
