Chapter 5
Zoë stood and brushed off her jeans, then raised her thick eyelashes and gave me a look I was too familiar with. “My keys aren’t lost,” she said in Cree, then continued in French, “There’s a difference. But I’m not here to discuss me.”
I knew by her tone that I was in for a sermon. I unlocked the back door and made her wait for me to go in first. I sniffed the air without making it obvious to Zoë what I was doing. My instincts, something I was truly beginning to trust, assured me he wasn’t there. I hung up my coat, slipped off my shoes and tossed my purse on the counter. I stuck my head into the dining room and around the corner to the living room just to be sure. “You know, sometimes your tone is disrespectful, young lady. You keep forgetting I’m your mother. I earned your res
