LAYLA'S POV
I've listened to the second recording twice since I made it, and my voice sounds like someone I'm still becoming. I'm also getting better at reading the lie-sensing feeling I’ve been getting more frequently lately.
I noticed it isn’t actually as random as I thought it was – it has texture. A cold chill down my spine for deliberate lies. A metallic taste for emotional falsehood. And something newer: a warm flush when someone tells me a deep truth.
I test it on Colt at breakfast.
"Do you regret the garage?"
He looks up from his coffee with that grin – the one that either precedes something that makes me laugh or something that makes me want to throw my mug at his head. I genuinely can't tell which is which anymore.
"Not even a little bit, Rowan." He holds my gaze. "Do you?"
