Chapter 19
The man is watching him, eyes glittering similarly to Aron, but less so. “What’s your name, son?” Zach opens his mouth but the man talks over him to add, “If you don’t mind, I’d like the name that your friends use.”
“Zach. For family, friends, colleagues, almost everybody,” Zach says.
“Zach, son, forgive Aron,” the man says. “He’s awful at social interactions with people he cares about.”
“I am not!”
“Yes, you are,” Zach snaps back quietly.
Aron opens his mouth. “Wha—”
“I can’t believe I—we’ll discuss this when—if. No, when we’ll get out of here,” Zach says, succeeding at pushing the mountain of implications to the side and turns toward Santa, the murder version. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name and I feel like I really should.”
“Giuseppe Wiater, this one’s grandpa.”