And it was no wonder, with the way Lynetta was carrying on about how great “Candle Ice” was.
She was positively gushing, which seemed very odd, coming from Lynetta.
As I looked around, it struck me that we were having dinner with a group of strangers.
We’d lived across the street for years, but I didn’t know these people at all.
Lynetta did know how to smile. Mr. Loski was clean and smooth on the outside,
but there was a distinct whiff of something rotten buried just beneath the surface.
And the ever-efficient Mrs. Loski seemed flustered, almost hyper. Was it having us over that was making her nervous?
Then there was Bryce—the most disturbing of all because I had to admit that I didn’t really know him, either.
And based on what I’d discovered lately, I didn’t care to know any more.
Looking across the table at him, all I got was a strange, detached, neutral feeling.
No fireworks, no leftover anger or resurging flutters. Nothing.
After we’d had dessert and it was time to go, I went up to Bryce and told him I was sorry for having been so fierce when we’d first come in.
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