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" I just nodded and continued following him to the office where we were supposed to check in.
I skidded to a stop at the kitchen island where a blackened ham sat in my mom's heirloom roasting pan-which had also turned crusty-black inside.
I told her Thursday.
He'd done it again.
Fragile at the core but with a tough outer shell.
After a light clatter of items moving around, he pulled out a bundle of jute rope. Grateful for the respite, I tried to breathe in and out slowly while he folded the length in half and then proceeded to tie a chest harness on me.
His eyes flashed, and he leaned forward.