Tinsel growled and hung up, and then ran her hand back over her head, trying to think of what the next step should be. “I’m gonna call my dad,” she said, and David gestured towards the kitchen if she wanted to take the call in private.
Iestyn watched her go, and then turned to Addy and rested his forehead on her shoulder. He wasn’t crying, for once. He felt like he had a massive knot in his chest, but he wasn’t crying.
“Fuck this shit,” he whispered, hating that familiar feeling of helplessness. “This is fucking bullshit.”