Sophia’s P.O.V

I spotted the black Porsche parked a little way down the block, gleaming under the streetlights like it had been bought brand new. My palms were sweaty, my heart doing that annoying rapid thump it always did when I was anxious. I clutched the wrapped canvas to my chest like it could shield me somehow.

This wasn’t just any visit. This was the visit. Meeting his mother. And I don’t know, something about it made my stomach churn.

As I got closer, the ...