thing.”
“What is it?”
For the first time since entering, he looked directly at me.
His gray-green eyes. His father’s—no. Not his father’s.
“Don’t lie to me, Mom,” he said. “Not this time.” TrackPregnancy
His tone frightened me more than his tears.
Not this time.
He knew—or believed he did. He wanted the pretending to end.
“Luke,” I said. “Where did you find that?”
“At Ben’s house,” he said. “His mom’s house. In her desk. Ben showed me where she keeps it.” TrackPregnancy
He offered it.
I accepted the page.
