my skin.
“What happens when he finds out?” I asked.
“He panics,” she said. “Or he tries again.”
My chest tightened. “We can’t go to the police?”
“We can,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “But not yet, and not just anywhere. Quasi has influence. He has charm. And he has time to spin this into a story where you’re unstable and he’s the grieving husband.continue reading …
