Page 32 of The Luminosity of Loriana Harper

He’s lying.

She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she knew with absolute certainty that part or all of that statement was false.

What was she supposed to do? Call him out? Wasn’t that a little forthright? Should she ignore it and invite him in any way? How would she know he was telling her the truth? And part of her should probably be worried that she was inviting a man into her house after only a brief acquaintance.

Even as she had the thought, her phone buzzed.

Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away from him. When she checked her phone, she chuckled. “Hello, Mom.”

“It’s not your mom.”

“I know it’s not. What’s up, Marnie? You must’ve just walked in the door.”

A brief pause. “Is he there?”

“Yes, he’s here.” She met his gaze.

“Right, well, um, maybe call me when he leaves?”

“All right. Sure.”

“You won’t forget?” The younger woman sounded frantic.

“I won’t forget. I apologized about the other night.”

“Yes, you did.” She exhaled. “Just call me.”

“Will do. Later.” She waited until Marnie cut the connection. Then she laughed.

“What’s funny?”

She gazed up at him. “Mother hen is checking in to make sure her chicks are all okay.”

He arched an eyebrow. “She cares about your safety, Loriana. Probably more than you do.”

“Well, are you talking the cuddle party or inviting you in tonight? Marnie knew about both events, so you needn’t worry.”

“Knowing so she can tell the police when you turn up missing or dead isn’t all that helpful if you’re doing reckless things.”

His words hit her with the force of a bullet to the chest.

Don’t think about Todd. He’s not talking about Todd. He doesn’t know about Todd.

Mitch might not, but she did. Well, she thought she did. Even after twenty years, it still hurt her heart. Still had the power to impale her soul. Could still take her back to that dreaded day all those years ago.

“Loriana?”

The concern in Mitch’s voice pierced through the fog of pain. She glanced at her bright porch light, then she waved him off. “Sorry, just a lapse.”

He snagged her hand and held on tight. “No, it’s not just a lapse. You’re sheet-white. And not in a good way. Something I said triggered you. I’m sorry. I mean, I don’t know what I said, and I wished you’d tell me, but I am so sorry.”

Chapter eight

WhatamIsupposedto do?

She wasn’t going to tell him what he’d said. What had he said? Something flippant about being missing or dead.

Oh God.

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