“Look at me.”

Desmond kept his eyes fixed firmly on the brown leather of his loafers.

“Tell me you didn’t know about this fake book,” Arthur said.

Desmond gripped the edge of the granite countertop with both hands.

He didn’t look up from the floor.

“We had some serious structural problems with our house,” Desmond said to his shoes.

The kitchen went completely quiet.

The refrigerator compressor clicked off.