The older woman looked at me.
She smiled politely.
Then she frowned.
“Who’s she?”
I stared at Kyle.
He looked as pale as I felt.
Before he could answer, the woman pointed toward the hallway.
“My little boy is sleeping,” she said softly. “Please don’t wake him.”
There was no little boy in our house.
Kyle stepped toward me.
“Can we talk outside?”
“No.”
My voice came out sharper than I intended.
“I want an explanation.”
The woman looked around the room, confused.
She rested one hand on the edge of Mia’s bed.
“My husband built this room,” she murmured. “He’ll be upset if strangers move my furniture.”
Kyle gently touched her arm.
