I laughed.
But the photograph stayed in my mind.
After dinner, Marissa stood.
“I forgot the cheesecake.”
“You made cheesecake?” I asked.
“It’s upstairs in the little fridge.”
Graham stared at her.
“You hid cheesecake from me?”
“I know you.” She kissed the top of his head as she passed. “I’ll be right back.”
Her footsteps disappeared upstairs.
Graham waited until we heard her bedroom door open.
Then he set down his fork.
The warmth vanished from his face.
He leaned toward me and lowered his voice.
“I did my part of the deal, now it’s your turn.”
I froze.
“What deal?”
He gave a quick, nervous laugh.
“Mercy, please. Don’t tell me Henry didn’t explain any of this to you.”
My hands went cold against the table.
“What are you talking about?”
“You really don’t know?”
“Know what?”
Graham stared at me.
One horrifying possibility came to mind immediately.
