He shrugged. "It hasn't, yet. She didn't write me back." He'd only written her the day prior, so there was still time for it to happen, but honestly he wasn't holding out much hope. She'd written him back immediately when he'd sent her letters in January, before his fitness as a parent had been legally called into question. He supposed that the difference now was either that her aunt and uncle had already instructed her not to talk to him, and she was following their directions, or that someone had told her she wasn't obligated to write him and she had elected not to. He had no reason to think that she liked him, or that she would want to talk to him.

He sipped his wine. "This is nice," he said, tilting the glass. "Well picked."

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