Page 64 of Butterfly

Leo huffed, slouching in his chair.

Maggie, who’d been watching the exchange, touched Leo’s shoulder. “You couldn’t be a dear and get me a tea, could you?”

“Sure.” Leo got to his feet. He trudged away, hunching with defeat.

Once he was out of earshot, Maggie leaned over the table. “Are you sure you haven’t received any letters?”

The hairs on the back of Ollie’s neck lifted at her accusation. He was lying, but still, he didn’t appreciate being called out on it. “I haven’t.”

“Howard is a good man. He’s respectable. He’s the perfect person to represent you during your appeal.”

“There is no appeal,” Ollie hissed while watching his brother across the room.

“Of course there is. Just because you didn’t appeal immediately, that doesn’t take away your right to—”

“I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

Maggie eyed him with sadness again. It was the fourth time they’d visited, and the first time they’d been left alone together.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.” Ollie shook his head. “I don’t need to be pitied.”

“Ollie. It’s not pity. It’s regret. I should’ve done something.”

“I’m nothing to you.”

“You’re my nephew. Me and Asher both knew about your father’s violent outbursts when he’d been drinking. You might not remember, but he threw a wine bottle—”

“I remember,” Ollie interrupted.

“We cut him out of our lives, left you and Leo on your own with him.”

“Asher was there at my sentencing. He was quite vocal about me being a problem child and deserving what would come to me.”

Maggie lowered her gaze. “He was hurting over his brother’s death. He always thought they might reconcile at some point. But recently, with Leo opening up to us more and more about what it was like at home all those years, he’s started to listen.”

“Good for him,” Ollie said, turning away.

Maggie sighed. “Do you know what Leo did after he read all your letters?”

Ollie shook his head.

“He started looking for someone to represent you.”

Ollie gritted his teeth and looked down.

“His hope was to get one, maybe two years off your sentence. He feels responsible—”

“He shouldn’t. I’ve told him he shouldn’t.”

“He still does, though.” Maggie shot him a pained smile. “Is it really so bad to speak to Howard?”

“You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?”

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