❝ YOU KNOW, YOU'RE RUDE. ❞
❝ WOW, YOU'RE LIKE A DETECTIVE OR SOMETHING. ❞
Scout Wiley has two sides. The loudmouth mailroom girl who hates coffee, and the trained assassin who never misses her target. Thanks to years of training, these lives hav...
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SPENCER SAT DOWN in the empty chair next to his mother, waiting for her to notice him.
She was engulfed in writing in her journal but when she finished the page she was writing on, she looked up. Diana Reid stared at her baby boy, in shock and admiration.
"Spencer? What are you doing here?" She threw the journal down and smiled, the wrinkles on her face more evident than ever.
"Mom, I told you in my letter. I wrote that I would be coming to visit today." The smile on Spencer's face fell a centimeter but he quickly picked it back up.
"Oh yes," She covered her mouth before nodding. "Yes, you did. I must've - forgotten, I suppose."
Diana looked at her son once over, "You look so skinny, have you been eating? I sent you that recipe book, have you tried it yet?"
"Yes, I did but. I'm not exactly a cook." He responded, his shoulders slumped in shyness.
"Nonsense. You used to cook all the time when you were younger. I remember you would make me dinner all the time." She waved her hand.
"That was macaroni and cheese." Spencer said matter of factly.
"And it was delicious every time."
A buzz from Spencer's pocket brought his attention away from his mother for a second. It was a text from Scout. He quickly typed out a response and sent it back to her.
Diana gazed at her son and the bright smile he got from his phone.
"Something's different about you."
"Hm?" He looked up and tucked his cell phone back into his pocket.
The elderly woman looked at him over again, her eyes landing every few seconds on somewhere different. He didn't look differently overall. He wore the same clothes, had his hair styled the same way, and his sneakers were just as dirty as ever.
"You're standing taller. You stopped slouching." She brought a finger to her mouth. "What changed?"
"I did?" Spencer rolled his shoulders back, changing his center of balance.
"You don't fool me, Spencer."
"I wasn't trying to."
The woman paused again, "Are you wearing contacts?"
"I always have, it's been a few years."
"No, no," Diana waved her hands around. "Not that. You're eyes, they're lighter. Are you wearing colored contacts?"
Spencer shook his head.
"Hm." She hummed and grabbed Spencer's hand.
She stared at him hard. Her son was different, yes. But the moment she realized why, relief washed over her like a calming wave.
