I expected things to get weird with James, but they didn’t. When I left for work, he was in his usual chair on the porch, feet up, newspaper in hand. He greeted me, just like he had every other day. “Hey Jules. Have a good night at work. Drive safely.” I would smile a little and wave before I went down the steps to my car. I could have told him bye out loud, but I didn’t want to get in the habit of talking. If James wasn’t going to tell, then maybe I could hold on to my fabricated identity for a little while longer. Hopefully long enough to solve Melayia’s murder.
On Wednesday I debated whether or not I wanted to continue to take the karate class. I got dressed in my work out clothes, but then I didn’t have the courage to go knock on his door. There were too many uncertainti
