CHAPTER 15
ARI
“Could you pass a screw?” Zach asked.
“A long one or a short one?”
“Long.”
I picked a screw out of the box, and Zach took it with slim fingers, the electric screwdriver in his other hand as he balanced on the ladder. Turned out that surfing wasn’t his only skill—he was pretty good at DIY too.
We were in Maya’s living room, installing the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves she’d longed for ever since she was a little girl. I’d learned plenty about the Torres siblings over the past two weeks.
The night I’d hidden out in Maya’s apartment, I’d found it was still a work in progress. A project. They’d spent years fixing up the main house, she said, and until last year, Maya had lived there with her brother. But she’d always dreamed of having her own space, and when Zach had bough
