Curiosity was a sin she hadn’t yet learned to confess.
“Then you have nothing to fear.”
“Someone who remembers when you used to leave milk and cookies by the furnace for the ‘house mouse.’ You were six. You wore a nightgown with ducks on it.” lisey sweet pure taboo
“There you are,” he said, extending a hand. “My sweet, pure Lisey.” Curiosity was a sin she hadn’t yet learned to confess
“Your uncle lies.” A pause. “Open the door, Lisey. Just a crack. I only want to see if you’ve kept your promise.” “My sweet, pure Lisey
Her face burned. She had never told anyone about the dreams—the ones where warm fingers traced her collarbone and a voice like velvet promised her the world. She had woken from those dreams feeling guilty and electric, pressing her thighs together in the dark.
“What promise?”