Genevieve

I heard the heavy thud of the car door closing behind him as I stepped into the house. I didn't head for the living room or the kitchen; I walked straight into his private study and waited. When he entered, I was already standing in the center of the room, leaning against his table, my back to him.

I turned around and let out a light, mocking giggle.

"You've been a pervert for a long time, haven't you, Uncle Artie?" I asked in that childlike voice I was used to calling him. "You've ...