Leah Knows Everything
Aria
Leah put a cup of tea in front of me and sat cross legged on her coffee table and looked at me with the expression of a woman who had been patient for approximately as long as she was capable of being patient and had now run out completely.
“Start from the beginning,” she said.
“Leah—”
“From. The. Beginning.”
I wrapped both hands around the mug and stared into it like it contained answers and thought about where the beginning even was. The driveway with my suitcases? The first dinner? The kitchen at midnight with his voice telling me to go to bed?
“He texted me on my first night,” I said.
Her eyes went wide. “He what.”
“Unknown number. Told me to wear something decent to breakfast.”
“Oh my God.”
“It escalated.”
“Aria.”
“I know.”
“He is your mother’s
