The Last Free Pass
When he noticed me, he froze, then reached over and turned down the burner.
My gaze moved past them and landed on the countertop.
The metal box had been opened. My mother’s handwritten recipe pages had been spread across the greasy board as a backdrop for the video.
Bianca’s hand, with my diamond ring on it, was pressing down on the yellowed paper.
I walked over, moved the phone tripod aside, and reached out to close the recipe book.
“Jenna, it’s not what you think!” Bianca was flustered when she saw my expression.