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“Don’t.”
I take a picture of the lock. “I’m documenting.”
“You’re tattling.”
“Different thing.”
“If one of those pictures goes to my brother, I swear to God I’ll move Darcy’s litter box into your bedroom.”
I lower the phone. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
I believe her. I slide the phone back into my pocket. “Fine. These are for me.”
“Why do you need pictures?”
“Evidence.”
“Of what?”
I look at the window. She follows my gaze.
“Bishop. Open mind.” She reminds me.
“I’m trying.”
Her eyes narrow like she doesn’t believe me. She knows me too well.
The bedroom is basically also the living room, but she doesn’t seem bothered by that either.
“I don’t need much space. I could put a little desk there.” She points beneath the window. “And shelves on that wall.”
I can already see it because she paints the picture as she rambles away. Books everywhere. Pink notebook on the desk. Her damn cat taking up whatever patch of sunlight comes through that dirty window.
And I want that for her. I just don’t want it here.
The landlord is explaining all about the utilities when movement near the baseboard catches my eye. Small, brown, and fast. It disappears beneath the radiator. Oh, hell no.
Laney sees my face. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Bishop.”
“Open mind.” I throw her words back at her.
Her eyes widen. “What did you see?”
“I said nothing.” I keep my eyes trained on the radiator because I know where there’s one, there’s a hell of a lot more.
“What. Did. You. See?” She follows my gaze.
Right on cue, the little bastard makes a second appearance.
Laney freezes. “Oh.”
“Yep.”
