LAYLA'S POV
Harper's words are still sitting in my chest when I knock on Bishop's door the next evening - they're starting to wonder if he's the one who's been lying. The crack is spreading. Now I need to find out who's willing to stand on my side of it.
Bishop's apartment is above the garages - small, dense, smelling like oil and old leather, and like a man who has been in one place long enough that the place has absorbed him. The garage below is quiet. I can hear him moving around inside before he opens the door.
He looks at me. Doesn't seem surprised. Steps back and lets me in without a word.
I don't bring documentation. No financial records, no accusations, no evidence. I bring a photograph.
My mother. I found it in my father's office years ago and asked to keep it - Elaine Rowan
