Chapter 8 - The Architecture of a Lie
"Ask her."
Carol’s voice was dead calm.
The heat was gone, replaced by absolute, freezing certainty.
She locked eyes with David. She didn't let him look away.
"Ask your mother why Caleb has been lying for months."
David’s brow furrowed. The lines around his eyes deepened.
He looked at Eleanor.
Eleanor’s hand dropped from her pearls. The tremor in her lip stopped instantly.
The silence in the kitchen was heavier than the screaming had been.
The refrigerator hummed. A drop of orange juice finally fell from the island counter and hit the puddle.
Plip.
David slowly bypassed the two women.
He unbuttoned his suit jacket. He lowered his tall frame, dropping to one knee right in the middle of the sticky, orange mess.
His expensive slacks soaked up the liquid. He didn't care.
He looked around the edge of Carol’s legs.
May you like
He saw the red welt.
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