“Yes.”
The smallness of Julian’s answer shut something down. Daniel’s mouth tightened, and for half a second he looked less like a man defending an inheritance and more like somebody who had walked into a room expecting his mother to be there.
Then he looked at me again and the softness disappeared.
“If this is about the complaint,” he said, “that didn’t come from me.”
I felt my stomach pull tight. “You know about it.”