Ryan seemed to let out a breath, coughed lightly, and spoke again. "Joy, this is too big. We can't hash this out over the phone. Where are you right now? Hurry home. We'll talk face to face."
He coaxed me like he always did.
Facing the pitch-black night outside the car window, I silently tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"Got it," I answered obediently. "Then I'll head back now."
After hanging up, I picked up the exquisite gift box on the passenger seat.
Bulk liquor at eighteen dollars a pound, poured into a bottle worth a fortune, instead became the fishhook that could reel them in.
The real show had only just begun.
The car pulled into the underground garage of the apartment complex. The moment I opened the door, Ryan's face arranged itself into a stiff smile.
"Joy, you're back?"
I changed into slippers and walked into the living room like nothing was wrong. Ryan and his mother sat side by side on the couch, their eyes locked on my empty hands.
"Joy, where are those two bottles of liquor?"
Ryan couldn't wait—he stood up, his gaze searching behind me.