Henry’s Arrival
About an hour later, Henry walked in, wiping his hands on a stained apron. His gaze flickered nervously around the room, careful not to meet mine. “I know what I saw,” he said, his voice more defensive than assured. The tension between us hung heavy, taut like a spring on the verge of snapping. The unease was palpable, his eyes searching desperately for anything to focus on other than me.
Henry’s Arrival
Jasmine Faces Henry
I rose to my feet, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. My eyes locked on Henry, catching the flicker of his evasive gaze. “We spoke for five minutes at checkout,” I said, my voice steady yet firm. The room buzzed with quiet curiosity. I wanted to believe Henry would come clean, but his tense posture and averted eyes told another story. I pressed on, determined to uncover the truth.
Jasmine Faces Henry
