Tracy
.
.
His gaze didn’t falter, they pinned me down like missiles locked on a target.
My stomach dropped and my skin prickled. But I couldn’t let him see me as a liar, not when I needed this job.
“I can prove it,” I said, reaching for my phone from inside my backpack. “I have pictures.”
He flicked his gaze up. “Never mind,” he said, cutting me off. “Have a seat.”
I limp, the hip I fell on throbbing more after running up the stairs.
“Why are you limping?”
“I fell,” I said, quickly seizing the opportunity. “While I was carrying my mother to the hospital.”
I couldn’t tell if he actually believed me now, but his expression changed.
I settled on the seat, just across from him, cupping my hands above my thighs.
I tried to look anywhere but his face. There was something his face di
