Kimberly
I sat on the bed, gripping my phone so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My heart still pounded in my chest from earlier when Kendrick had walked into the room just as I was ending my call.
I had lied to him.
I had looked him straight in the eye and told him it was nothing. A wrong number. Just a mistake.
And he had believed me.
Or at least, he had pretended to.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that Kendrick knew something was off, that he could sense my unease. But if he suspected anything, he hadn’t pressed further, and for that, I was grateful.
But now that I was alone, my thoughts ran wild.
How had Aiden gotten my number?
I had only just received this phone from Kendrick, and I hadn’t given my number to anyone in Philadelphia. Was there a spy in Kendrick’s office? So
