Greg Iles Quote

Hair. He’s bald now. But he still looks like he could ride a bull ragged. I jump at the sound of the garage door. Mom gives me a little wave, then crosses the kitchen as silently as if she were floating on a magic carpet and disappears down the hall. Moments later, my father walks through the kitchen door, his face drawn and tired. I figured you’d be waiting for me. Dad, we’ve got to talk. Dread seems to seep from the pores in his face. Let me get a drink. I’ll meet you in the library.