CREEPER
I pretended not to watch.
I kept up the lie as I leaned against the inside wall, staying far enough from the kitchen window so no one could say I was staring, but close enough to see the whole backyard if I tilted my head. The glass showed just enough of my reflection to remind me I wasn’t really minding my own business.
Rio sat in the old patio chair, arms crossed and back straight, like she was bracing for a blow. Raine paced in front of her, hands moving, shoulders tight, his voice coming through the cracked window in uneven bursts. He kept making excuses, stacking them up, hoping they’d pass for accountability.
“My father—” Raine started again, and I almost snorted.
There it was. The excuse. The reason. The shield. In his mind, everything wrong in his life came from the ma
