“I haven’t.” He sounded hurt but Hana kept walking towards the bathroom. “I meant my horny brother.”
Hana locked herself in the bathroom with her overnight bag, freshening up and replacing her underwear. A lack of towels hindered her. She peered at herself in the mirror and squared her shoulders against the coming storm. Miriam’s reaction to the baby seemed odd, acknowledging it in a way that obscured Tama. She behaved like Hana carried her first grandchild. “No wonder he’s messed up,” she sighed, reaching for her lipstick.
“I’m not messed up.” Logan’s hands snaked around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder.
“Those who listen at doors will never hear good about themselves,” Hana growled, pursing her lips to stain them with matte lipstick the colour of mahogany wood.
“I did
