Her Aunt Monica’s car pulled up just as the elevator doors slid shut behind the pair. Monica’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the scene, her lips pressing into a thin line at the sight of Luther with another woman.
She turned toward Seraphine, ready to comment, but Seraphine spoke first, her tone even.
“Mom sent gifts for you,” she said, gesturing to the truck parked nearby. “You’ll want to check the perishables. You know how she is—always overdoing things.”
Her calm demeanor masked the storm brewing beneath. Though she didn’t look toward Luther, she could feel his gaze lingering. To her surprise, he broke the silence.
“Seraphine,” he called out, his voice tinged with defensiveness, “this isn’t what it looks like. Cornelia’s old neighborhood wasn’t safe, so I helped her find a new place. I didn’t even know your aunt lived here.” He gestured vaguely at the truck. “What’s all this?”
Seraphine met his explanation with an impassive stare. “Mom wanted to restock my aunt’s pantry before we leave. Since we’re not coming back, she figured it was practical.”