Thankless in Death (In Death 37)

She took a moment to walk over, set the frame, sketch side out on the mantel above the applewood fire, between the flickering candles.

“I do look kick-ass.”

“Darling Eve, you are kick-ass.”

“You’re not wrong.”

She took his hand, went with him to join the family, the friends, the feast. And was thankful for the now.

How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.