Ezra
We both stare at the dress and jewelry on Wren’s bed while she cuddles in my lap as I sit on the chair by her dresser.
“You’re sure you didn’t bring back any of these?” I ask again.
She exhales shakily. “I think so. God, Ezra, I don’t know. If I say I’m sure, then how are these things here?”
“Has anything else happened? Anything that’s a bit suspicious?”
“No. Just this.” She sniffles. “Maybe I’m being paranoid.”
“There’s no way someone would break into this house without the alarm going off, baby. Yet, I believe that there’s something fishy going on.”
“I’m not insane.”
“You’re not,” I affirm. “I’m going to make some calls…”
“What would you say?”
I shrug, sifting my hands through her hair. “Honestly? I have no idea. But do me a favour, don’t say this to Ray.”
“Why not?”
“He
