off?”
I stared at her.
She knew exactly what she’d done.
Yet she was standing there asking about the damage as though she had merely heard about it from a distant acquaintance.
“No,” I said quietly. “Someone painted it again last night.”
Her smile faltered for half a second.
“Oh, no! Again?”
“Yes. Again.”
“That’s terrible. You poor things.”
I watched her carefully.
She wasn’t just pretending to be concerned. She seemed to be studying my face, waiting for some particular reaction.
“Did you hear anything last night?” I asked.
