The Misdelivered Secret Between Arthur and the Girl Next Door

nineteen hours baking.”

“Nineteen hours?”

“Sometimes.”

“Kayla.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you are nineteen.”

“I’m also useful,” she snapped.

Then immediately, she looked sorry.

“I mean… I can help them. I have to.”

I looked back at the screen.

“How much have you paid?”

She named the number.

It was not enough to solve the problem.

But it was enough to make my throat close.continue reading …