- RAYA -
Every time I ask Dex what his uncle does, he seems to skirt the question.
"Is he a lawyer?" I ask, propped on the kitchen stool again where I'm often finding myself. Dex cooks, and I watch. Those are becoming our roles. I could help, but I'm honestly still too shaken up right now—despite the fact that it's been hours since Lawson was here.
"He is very familiar with the law. Don't worry about it, okay?" A muscle works in Dex's jaw while he focuses on the food. Beautiful smells are rising around him, and I wonder if he realizes how much he seems like a wizard right now. That's how foreign culinary talents are to me—they seem like some kind of wizardry.
"What did you tell Lawson about why you didn't show up at the office today?" I'm still fidgeting, still nervous.
"I told him I had car trouble."
"What kind of car trouble?"
"Does it matter what kind of car trouble?" He says with a crooked smile.
