27
LEAH
“Hey, boy! I brought you a—”
The words died in my throat when I saw Kevin sitting at the dining room table. He wasn’t eating. No, he had a screwdriver in his hand as he examined… Oh f**k. The mangled remains of the skyline print lay on the floor beside him—the twin of the one in my hand—and when he looked at me, his eyes swam with hurt and confusion.
With pain.
And like a fool, I made things worse.
“I thought you’d be at work all day.”
His gaze dropped to the painting in my hand.
“Yes, I can see that.” Kevin’s voice was flat. Distant. “What is this, Leah?”
He already knew, didn’t he? There was none of the curiosity I might have expected to hear in his voice, only disappointment. This was a test. Would I lie to him again?
“It’s a listening device.”
“Why did you bug my hom
