Our hero, recently released after 20 years in a rather nasty prison, is hoping his ex-girlfriend will give him the address of a former friend; fantasy, not present day.
"You came back, did you?"
"Know how to make a man feel welcome." Despite the coldness of her welcome, he walked over to the table. Two days of constant walking had made his knees ache, and it was hard not to limp.
"Owen will be home soon for lunch." Annes returned to cutting the carrots. "I'll don't think he'll be happy seeing a, seeing you in our house." [I'd replace the comma with an ellipsis to show a longer pause.]
"I understand." He went to put his hands on the back of the chair, then thought better and shoved them behind his back. "Where is Roland?"
"I said no."
"How can you protect him?"
"Protect him?" She stopped, with the knife up in front of her. With its pointed end, it looked like a dagger and she held it as if she wanted to stab someone. "You think that?"
She resumed chopping the carrots, each stroke of the knife thudding into the board below.
"What will happen if you, if you hurt him and get caught?" [Another comma that I'd make an ellipsis.]
Does it matter? Jenn shrugged. "Maybe they send me back to Blackmarsh?"
The knife went still. "You want that?"
"I know rules there. Can play their game."
"More like they'll hang you."
"Then all be over."
The carrot cutting resumed, but this time each chop was weaker, not even making it through the carrot.
"Your Owen, is a good man?"
Annes nodded. "He is a very good man. He's a loving husband and father, and we've had sixteen mostly wonderful years together."
"I am glad." Sixteen? Her daughter had to be older than that, nineteen at least or twenty. Did it matter? "He is not," what was her name? "Elyn's father, is he?"
Annes' hand froze for a moment. "No." She looked frightened, like a child caught stealing apples from the bin.
[Nice tense scene.]