Not Jade.
Jade's voice has a rasp to it when she's tired, a dry edge from too much coffee and too little patience. This voice flows, like music, or a summer breeze.
My smile fades. I take another slow step, holding on to the wall for dear life.
Then I hear Locke laugh, a real laugh, the kind I haven't heard all day. Relief loosens something in my chest, and I’m glad that he’s able to laugh. He deserves a few easy moments today, after being there for me so completely.
I move closer, and now I can see the kitchen lights spilling across the tile floor.
There’s another laugh now, the same woman. She says, "I don't believe you."
“Oh?" I hear Locke reply. “Why not?”
“Because it just doesn’t seem like something that a man like you would do."
Something inside me stills. I know that voice.
