"You know what this means?"
Santiago did not answer.
But Gabriel said it anyway. "It means you're afraid."
That made Santiago go still. Because fear was not a word people placed near him. Ever.
Gabriel lowered his voice further. "Not of enemies. Not of betrayal. Not of death." He glanced at the crib. "Of losing something."
The words entered the room and stayed there.
Santiago did not move. Did not argue. Which, for him, was answer enough.
Gabriel watched him for a long time. Then said softly, "Does she know?"
Santiago's jaw tightened. "No."
"Does she know the child is yours?"
"No."
Gabriel stared. Then let out a long breath. "Well."
That one word carried volumes.
Santiago looked at him coldly. "Well what?"
Gabriel gave him a small, dangerous smile. "Well, brother…" He glanced at the sleeping infant, then back. "You have made a spectacular mess."
