They’re talking. Well, she’s talking, her hands fluttering around as if she’s performing in some self-indulgent play. From this distance, I can’t make out the words, but I can see how she keeps pointing at her leg and down at her shoe. Elijah stands there, nodding, his face set in that infuriatingly calm way that makes it seem like he actually cares about whatever trivial nonsense is spewing from her mouth.
“What the hell is he doing?” Celeste mutters, her voice thick with incredulity.
My throat tightens, my heart sinking into my stomach as I watch the scene unfold. I want to look away, to pretend I don’t see it, but I can’t. My eyes are glued to them, every nerve in my body alive with tension.
Valerie keeps motioning toward her shoe, and then, without hesitation, Elijah bends down.
My
