The silence during dinner as Cruz pondered the evidence, she felt she very neatly laid out in front of him was extremely uncomfortable. It hung over her like a shroud and she was as wrapped up in her own misery as he was in his.
All of her life he thought they were in some kind of mutual prank war, and it was all started because her brother lied and said her mother beat him up. She didn’t even know what to make of it. What she did know was her mother was going to be devastated when she told her.
“How was your meal?” the overly chipper server interrupted Presley’s thoughts. “Can I interest either of you in dessert? We have a delicious crème brulée or a small collection of patisseries.”
“No thank you.”
“Yes, the patisseries, please.” Cruz spoke over her.
“Seriously Cruz?” she growled at
