Charlotte
Still staring at me, my dad smiled from a corner of his lips.
He stood from the couch and went to sit on his swivel chair behind his sleek mahogany desk, leaving me at the centre of the office space.
"That'll be all for now, Charly," he said, going back to his open file and not bothering to look at me.
As I stood and turned to leave, his phone rang.
It shouldn't be any of my problem, but right now, I needed to be aware of every call he was receiving or making.
I stopped in my track and bent to adjust something that didn't actually need adjusting on my shoes, just to give me enough time to linger in the office, to hear or guess who might be called.
Most likely, it was an official call. But it might not be.
Pick it. Pick it. I kept saying in my mind. Already, I was
