She squeezes my hand, a silent plea to play along. I decide she must have a good reason to conceal my identity from hercaseworkers.
Although, I won’t lie: She could have done a less s**t job of it.
Predictably, Lee’s eyebrows scrape the ceiling. “This is Boris Johnson?”
“Well, obviously, not the Boris Johnson,” Mia laughs awkwardly. Her palm has started to sweat. “Just, you know… A BorisJohnson.”
Lee’s gaze fixes on me, filled with suspicion to the brim. For once, I can’t f*****g blame him. “I see.”
“I don’t believe you were due for a visit,” I say, swiftly changing the subject. “Not until the end of the month.”
Mia’s eyes widen, just a fraction. If she’s shocked that I memorized her CPS appointments on top of her work schedule, she
clearly has no idea what I
