25
Lucinda Santiago
She set the phone down on the coffee table, all too aware of the way Brandon sat a foot away from her on the sofa, pretending to scroll through the offerings on Netflix but really doing his best not to watch her. When the call had come through, he’d asked whether he should go into his bedroom so she could have some privacy. She’d demurred, mostly because she’d halfway known what the call would be about as soon as she saw the number on the caller I.D., and she’d wanted him to stay with her, hadn’t wanted to deal with this by herself.
Voice flat, she said, “Marisol wants me to come back to Pasadena. She sounded…almost like herself again, but tired.”
Still not really looking in her direction, Brandon replied, “Well, I can understand why she’d be tired — and why she wou
