took one step into the room. “Give me those.”
I almost laughed again.
“No.”
He reached for the papers.
I stepped back and held up my phone with the camera already on.
“Try it.”
That stopped him.
A sixty-three-year-old man in a faded T-shirt, standing in his mother’s old guest room, staring at his daughter like she was the one who’d broken in. Maybe I had.continue reading …
