164. His Family

River looked up from the papers scattered across his desk, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers. “Tiffany,” River said. He gestured to the leather armchair across from him. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?” he asked. She moved woodenly, sinking into the chair. Its softness felt wrong, too comfortable for the weight of sorrow pressing down on her shoulders. “Not great, Dad,” she said. River nodded, his silence an invitation for her to continue. But the words wouldn’t come. They stuck in her throat, choking her with their intensity. Tiffany’s hands clenched in her lap, her nails digging crescents into her palms. “It has been hard on all of us. John was a valuable member of our family.” River’s voice was gentle, understanding. Tiffany nodded, a single tear escaping to trace a path down her cheek. She brushed it away angrily, hating the weakness it represented. “I should have been there,” she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. River’s eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his f