Dig looked up as Veronica stepped out of the house. He took in her expression and immediately felt bad for startling her. Clearly the situation had upset her. And she'd likely seen the bloody mass on the table as well. Dig got to his feet and approached her, swallowing the last of the alcohol in his glass and stopping in front of her, looking down at her face before dropping his eyes down. He put a gentle hand on her hip and felt suddenly crumpled, like a piece of parchment that had been discarded. He felt the flames hot at his back and he closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
"I didn't mean to upset you. I'll clean up the kitchen and put out the fire," Dig said softly. He opened his eyes and looked into her face and wondered, not for the first time, what exactly she was doing with him. She was young and beautiful and full of potential and perhaps he was keeping her safe, but he clearly wasn't making her happy. He wondered, though, if that was because he was unable to as he'd originally assumed, or simply because he had chosen not to and was keeping her at a distance.
He didn't think now was an appropriate time to discuss that with her, however. Right now, he owed her an explanation.
"Dorcas was killed today," he explained softly, pulling her a little closer with the hand on her hip. He knew that Veronica would remember the girl who was not allowed steak that he had been keeping in an upstairs bedroom all those weeks ago. "I was very close to her. I reacted badly."