POV: Liam
She made tea, I stood in her kitchen doorway and watched her fill the kettle and set it on the stove with the focused efficiency of someone who needed something to do with their hands. She did not ask if I wanted any. She just made two cups, set one in front of the chair across from hers, and sat down.
I sat, The kitchen was small and warm, the kind of room that had been lived in long enough to feel like the people inside it. A drawing pinned to the fridge that looked several years old. A stack of library books on the counter. A dish towel folded over the edge of the sink that I noticed she had been gripping when I looked through the window. She wrapped both hands around her mug and looked at me across the table. "Tell me what you know," she said.
So I told her.
I told her ab
