PREVIEW
... shwasher. Plates slid into place, glasses clinked softly into the racks, cutlery scattered neatly into the tray. We worked side by side in comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need filling.
When the last dish was in, I closed the door and pressed the button. The machine hummed to life.
Delilah wiped her hands together. "I’ll go talk to Minne."
"Thanks," I said, meeting her eyes.
She nodded once and headed down the hall.
I reached into my pocket, pulle ...
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