“Who the hell is Ava Raul and why have you been giving her
money for the past five years?” Margaret screamed, her face livid. “And don’t
you dare lie to me, Brian. I can always tell when you’re lying.”
Brian swiveled in his chair, turning his back to his wife,
and he looked unseeingly out the window, his eyes shifting restlessly and
focusing on nothing, an expression of fear mingled with defeat on his face.
“Well? Who is she?” Margaret bellowed.
“Margaret, is there any way you could forget about this,
because you don’t really want to know,” Brian said stiffly, his back still to
her.
“Oh, you got some freaking nerve. Tell me!” she shouted.
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