The Misdelivered Secret Between Arthur and the Girl Next Door

past him.

On the driveway, he grabbed my elbow.

Not hard.

Not harmful.

But possessive.

Like I was luggage.

I stopped and looked at his hand.

He removed it.

“Dad,” he said quietly, “what are you doing?”

“Helping a neighbor.”

“You can barely help yourself.”

That landed.

I turned.

Kayla’s apartment door was still open.

I knew she heard.

Brian knew too.

For the first continue reading …