“Certainly,” he said quietly, suddenly mindful of it- er, Abraham.

Zechariah did not bother hiding his relief when Uriel confessed doing something normal, like hiring help.

“My maid married,” Zechariah shrugged. “If their family is –” his sentence dropped off.

Something told him Uriel was not keen on hearing about respectable versus disreputable families.

“– possessing daughters you would trust, I am hiring again.”

He smoothed out his already smooth suit – blander than his usual. Fixed his cuff links.

This was like the time Zechariah had been afraid to tell Chaim it was he who had knocked over his favorite glass.