In the evening, when Lemuel’s SUV pulled up at Inara’s place, she watched from her bedroom window, petrified.
She was already dressed and pulled herself away from the window as her father entered to see her in her room the second time since she had gotten prepared for the evening.
The first time was he informing her that they would be meeting Lemuel’s family a day after the engagement. It was an information she had received with trepidation, overwhelmed by how fast things were going, based on a single lie.
“Is there a particular reason why I’m the one who had to give this address to your prospective husband? Are you not communicating?” her father asked.
“Maybe it is his way of bonding with you.” Inara responded without thinking, surprising herself. It was official, she was a liar.
“Th
