My mom stole my wife’s card to shop like it was her right then called me raging when it bounced
Marjorie stared at his outstretched hand as if it were a weapon. “I beg your pardon?” she said, chin lifting. “The keys,” Derek repeated. “All copies.” She laughed once, sharp and disbelieving. “After that little performance at your apartment? You let the police question me in my own driveway.” “You weren’t in your driveway,” he…