MACEY 

“What the hell, Zinna?” I blurted, my voice sharper than I intended. “You told me he wasn’t home.” 

Zinna just gave this lazy shrug, like she couldn’t care less. “Guess I was wrong,” she said flatly, with no hint of guilt in her tone. Then, like she hadn’t just lied straight to my face, she brushed past me, her perfume lingering in the air as she walked out the door. 

I stood there frozen for a moment, my mind scrambling to catch up with what had just happened. My ...