Tiffany
So maybe this is more than unexpected. I only remember her from when Larry had called her mom and then from pictures I'd found hidden somewhere around the house, probably by Larry himself, afraid to look into her eyes. But her standing here in front of me makes me jittery. I don't know what to say to her.
"Can I come in? Or would you rather I freeze to death out here?" Caroline asks.
It's a rhetorical question, I think. Because there is no way she'd be able to freeze with the sun high up in the sky. Still, I stand aside and let her in. She probably knows this place better than I do anyway.
I shut the door immediately, and she walks in and turns to look at her. I cross my hands over my chest and eye the rise and fall of her chest as she watches me too.
I say, "Larry isn't home. Why are you here?"
"I'm not here to see Larry," she says and turns around, her eyes scanning the flight of stairs. It makes me wonder about what's going on in her head at this very moment.
"Little Larry isn't home either, if that's who you're looking for," I say.