The Return of The Forsaken Son-in law

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Marco was just sliding the jacket into the drum when the door at the far end of the laundry room banged open. The sound carried like a warning, slicing through the low hum of the machines. He straightened automatically, hands still on the wet fabric, and turned.

Madam Barbara filled the doorway like a storm. Even when she did not speak, the room obeyed...machines squeaked down a tone. She crossed the floor with decisive steps that left no doubt she owned every inch of it. For a moment Marco thought her look might be mercy. He was wrong.

She stopped in front of him and surveyed him like a tired inspector. Her gaze traveled from the jacket in his hands to his face, pausing at the sticky smear that lingered beside his cheek. The light caught that tacky sheen, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

“How do you feel?” she asked, voice deceptively casual.

“All is well,” Marco answered, keeping his voice steady.

He wanted to finish what he had started and get this humiliation over with. The