26
Sara
The mouthwatering smell of buttery seafood and roasted garlic greets me when I walk into the house, my handbag hanging casually over my shoulder. As I hoped, once again the dining room table is set with candles, and a bottle of white wine is chilling in a bucket of ice. Only the food is different today; it looks like we’re having seafood linguini for the main course, with calamari and a tomato-mozzarella salad for the appetizers.
The setup couldn’t be more perfect if I tried.
Act normal. Stay calm. He can’t know what you’re planning.
“Italian night, huh?” I say as Peter turns from the kitchen counter, where he was chopping up something that looks like basil. My heart is thumping erratically in my chest, but I succeed in keeping my tone coolly sarcastic. “What’s tomorrow? Japan
