Chapter Eleven
“Are you in here?” Spencer’s voice rings out.
I feel frozen for a few seconds as she steps into my room. I stick my head out of the closet and her eyes widen at the sight of me. Her hands are filled with folders and a tablet, which she places on top of my old dresser.
“April? What are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you,” I tell her, closing the photo album quickly, “so I came by to see if you were home.”
“You want to talk to me?” she repeats, her face now guarded.
I stand up and look at the folders. “Where were you?”
“At Dad’s office... trying to plug the holes in the sinking ship,” she says grimly.
“That bad?”
She runs her fingers through her hair looking almost forlorn.
“Just a lot to cover,” Spencer replies, clearly dodging the question.
“I didn’t come her
