“You’ll only tell me what isn’t true.”
That hurt more than her shouting had.
At night, I checked the locks twice as always, then paused outside her bedroom. She was only a few feet away, yet Los Angeles still seemed to stand between us.
That hurt more than her shouting had.
Against my better judgment, I started studying his face too. Max could not be Lily’s father—I knew that—but the resemblance was unsettling. Lily even shared some of his expressions.
Publicidad
Her father had revealed little about his family. Could Max be a distant relative he had never mentioned?
The possibility frightened me, but I refused to encourage Lily without evidence.
One evening, I entered her room and found her staring at a payment screen.
She jerked the phone against her chest.
“What are you doing?”
She jerked the phone against her chest. “Nothing.”
I took it before she could close the page. She was about to send three hundred dollars—nearly all her savings—to an account claiming to belong to Max.
