DOMINIC

I waited until I heard Elena’s door close upstairs before I let myself look at Andrea the way I’d wanted to from the moment I walked into that hall.

She was still holding her cheek, still wearing the face she’d put on for me, the trembling mouth and the wet eyes and the wounded little hitch in her breath. It was a good performance. Once it would have worked on me. This morning I felt nothing but a cold, climbing need to know who had taught her to do it so well.

“You can ...