Alejandro blinked. "What—?"
"Of your sister. The redhead who was killed years ago. She would have been nineteen in six months, right?"
Alejandro looked down, his playful demeanor vanishing.
"Yeah… Yeah, she does. I guess I wanted to believe my sister sent her to me somehow. So I had to talk to her, make sure her story was real, to be sure I wasn't being manipulated by an enemy."
"Smart instinct. Next time, let me know before you pull something like that."
"Definitely."
Adrian returned to his paperwork, while Alejandro slumped into the chair beside him with a groan.
"Fuck, my ribs hurt."
"Don't whine in my presence," the former said flatly. "Now, tell me everything you two talked about from the moment I left you until now."
"You… wouldn't rather I just help you finish up? We need to get the Missus home early."
"We're not going home tonight," Adrian said.
Alejandro frowned. "But she's in wet clothes. Will she be okay?"
