15

“What time do you think he’s gonna come?”

Cora and I were in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Finn was curled up somewhere upstairs reading a book. I’d taken an excuse to go come home early from Mr. Sturm, citing my reason as wanting to get started on the manuscript revision which I couldn’t complete at the office. He seemed doubtful, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Thankfully, he made no further comment and said that I could leave.

Cora had gone shopping for soup items before coming home with Finn. “He said he’d round up with his office work by seven, so we should expect him by seven thirty.”

I darted a glance at the small silver clock hanging above the freezer. We still had over an hour more till he got here. I watched in amusement as Cora washed the sliced chicken laps, her hands shaky and eyebrows were strewn in concentration. “Whoa, you need to chill out, girl. Why are you so jumpy?”

She barely spared me a glance, dousing the oven tray with oil. “He’s my boss, Elaine. I have to mak