Friday’s Page 69 ~ That Weekend by Kara Thomas
In the window overlooking the patio, the curtains rustle. Dad’s arm tenses around me; I know he saw it too. Someone – one of Kat’s parents – watching us, maybe, studying the words forming on our lips.
But when we make our way into the kitchen, it’s empty, silent except for the hum of the fridge. The floor tiles are gleaming white, not a trace of the mess that was there earlier.