Chapter Forty-Three
Michaela
Making out with Lincoln wasn’t the worst delay for breakfast, even if I was starving.
Distantly, the sound of the lock turning in the door registered to my mind. Abby.
Abby“So this is what you do in my brother’s house.” Not Abby!
Not Abby“Mother!” I broke from the hot drummer, putting him behind me. “How did you get in?”
She dangled a key from her right index finger. “Please. Harry predictably never changed the locks.” Her gaze traveled down and up Lincoln, who had moved to my side. “I see your tastes have upgraded with maturity.”
PleaseI blocked her view of him again. “What do you want, Mother? There’s nothing more to say after yesterday.”
Her eyes briefly took in our surroundings. “Mr. Howell might’ve filled your head with pretty assurances, but my pa
