Justin
As I enter the Dunns' home, I attempt to stop their screen door from slamming. The damn thing has done it for thirty years. I'm not sure why I think I can stop it now or why I care. Turning, I see Janet Dunn. “Hi," I say, as the door slams. “Sorry." My stomach rumbles at the delicious aroma filling this kitchen.
Janet waves her hand. “Come on in, Justin. That old door is better than any alarm system. If I didn't hear it slam ten times a day, I'd think my hearing would need checking." She comes closer to me.
My pulse speeds, and I'm pretty sure perspiration is forming on my brow.
“I'm glad you could come to dinner."
She's acting odd.
Weird.
She knows.
“Have you spoken with Devan?" I ask.
“I have. She's my daughter."
Inhaling, I debate about explaining my intentions
