“Mr. Temple.”
Peter and Samuel stood by the entrance, their striking looks drawing stares and whispers from passersby.
“Still calling him Mr. Temple?” Samuel teased. “Come on, Hannah, you’re my cousin. You should call him Uncle Peter, just like I do.” He grinned. “And I just realized, you’re actually a few months older than me. If things had been different, I could have called you little sister. Then I wouldn’t be the youngest anymore.”
Hannah paused, looking at Peter. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words “Uncle Peter” felt foreign on her tongue, impossible to say. She had never really had a family, never had the chance to learn those names. Even with the Rosenbergs, she had only ever called them by their formal titles. The rest of the family had never accepted her, and she was rarely included in their gatherings.
“It’s okay,” Peter said gently, seeing her discomfort. “It will take time. You can get used to it after you come home.”
“He’s right,” Samuel added with an encouraging smile. “Once you’re home, I’ll introduce you to everyone. You can just copy whatever I call them.” He glanced around. “It’s past eight. Where’s Lionel? You don’t think he’s going to bail, do you?”
Hannah looked around as well, a frown creasing her forehead. A familiar sense of irritation began to build. She had thought today would finally be the day. To think that Lionel had known all along that the divorce was never filed, that he had just been letting her count down the days, making a fool of her. The thought made her despise him even more.
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