“Paint.”
“I can see it’s paint. From where?”
“Art class,” Mark called from the hallway.
He appeared behind Leo with a cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other.
“The teacher’s been doing a whole galaxy unit this week. Stars, planets, the works.”
Then he gave me that smile.
Small and private, with the corners of his mouth tucked inward as though he were keeping something from slipping out.
“It looks stubborn. Doesn’t it wash off?”
“You know how he is in the tub. Splashes everywhere except on himself.”
“I did!” Leo shouted before bouncing off the bed and racing downstairs.
Continue on the next page:
