“Hi,” Lyric replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“And how long has he been staying without us knowing?” Mum asked; her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she wore casual clothes, a black sweater and blue pants.
Roland grumbled something. Of course, he couldn’t have hidden that. “Not long. Three weeks.”
“And can I ask why he’s staying with us?”
“He got kicked out of his house, and it’s cold at night, and he has asthma. And Claire didn’t want to leave him out alone. In the cold. Like an abandoned cat.”
Creed came down the stairs and glared at Roland. “If you were going to tell Mum he was crashing with us, you should have told me,” he whined.
“Whose friend is he?” Mum asked as she eyed both him and Creed.
“Mine,” both brothers replied.
Mum smiled at Lyric. “Well, are
