"Who the hell was that exactly?" Christopher asked.
The question hung in the air for a moment before Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his weathered hands fidgeting with the rim of his cup. When he looked up, his eyes held a mixture of shame and defensive love that only a family member could possess.
"Wanda... she's my granddaughter," he said quietly.
Christopher leaned forward, his expression skeptical. "I get that, but isn't she basically bullying you? The way she talked to you back there... it was like she genuinely despises you. Are you absolutely sure you didn't just adopt her or something? Because that dynamic doesn't exactly scream 'loving family relationship.'"
Joel's face flushed with indignation. "I didn't adopt her! She is my granddaughter!" he replied, glaring at Christopher with surprising intensity. "My daughter's daughter, blood of my blood."
