Vanessa was studying the side of my face.

She ran her hands over her yellow skirt again.

“Ethan must have brought it up,” Vanessa said softly.

Ethan couldn’t have brought up something he didn’t know about.

Vanessa had been alone in my house for twenty minutes on her first visit, two months ago.

I’d assumed she was in the guest bathroom.

I lifted the kettle again and poured the boiling water over the tea leaves.

Thick steam billowed up between us.