Seamus clenched his fists. "What did you say?"
Diane's calm answer only made his anger spike. Not just her, every one of Viviane's so-called family stood there as if none of this mattered.
Why was he the only one who seemed gutted by her death?
He hadn't expected sympathy from Isolde—Viviane's murderer—but at least from her sister, her aunt? Nothing.
It was too much. Even Andrew, an ass when he wanted to be, had led and planned Viviane's funeral when Seamus had been too numb to move.
Even his father, who had known her for barely a week, had sent condolences. Viviane's college friends had also reached out to this family.
And Viviane's family? Blank faces.
Disgust churned in his chest. He stepped back, putting distance between himself and them.
"Don't get me wrong," Diane said evenly, "what I meant is you're just a human, Seamus."
