There Is No Devil Sinners Duet Book 2 By Sophie Lark-pdfread

She prefers to be the one showing up unannounced on people’s doorsteps.
She hates that I’m trespassing in her space, catching her unaware.
On the other hand, she’s been trying to find me for years. She can’t possibly
slam the door in my face when she’s finally getting what she wants.
“What are you doing here?” she croaks.
I must have woken her, even though it’s ten o’clock in the morning. The sour
scent of unwashed clothing, spilled wine, and stale cigarettes wafts out of the
house. An old, old smell for me. One that recalls my earliest days.
“I brought you a gift,” I say, holding up a bottle of merlot, her favorite.
Her eyes flick to the label and back to my face, narrowing. I have never
bought her alcohol in all my life.
“A peace offering,” I say. “I have something to discuss with you.”
I already know she won’t be able to resist. The wine is only half as tempting
as what she really wants: the chance to dig information out of me.
“Fine,” she grunts, holding the door wider and retreating back into the house
so I can follow.
That’s as good as an invitation.
I cross the threshold, closing the door behind me.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the interior gloom. I stand still
until they do, so I don’t trip over the piles of pizza boxes, empty beer cans,
overflowing ashtrays, discarded clothing, scattered shoes, stacks of old
magazines, junk mail, and moldering paper plates still marked with the
remains of meals long past.
“Sit anywhere,” my mother says, flopping down on a pile of blankets on the
ratty sofa—clearly the same place she was sleeping moments before.
I have to move a pile of old newspapers off the closest chair before I can
likewise sit down. I recognize the paper on top: it’s the same one Arthur
showed me during my last shift at Sweet Maple. The one that contains a
picture of me in the arts section.