Jan. Week 3: Wednesday Evening...Leah lies it off well (Luck:-40, Suspicion: -20)

Jonathan was already home as Leah entered the house she found him hunched over the kitchen table, sorting piles of mail into little heaps and haphazardly shoving stray items into drawers. This was his pre-Game Night ritual of hastily getting things ready.

He looked up when she walked through the door, and right away Leah could tell he was in one of those moods—the ones where his brow furrowed and his mouth twisted halfway between a smile and a frown.

"Hey, babe," he said, voice ****-casual as he wiped his hands on a dish towel. "You're late. Thought you were home an hour ago?"

He kept his tone light, but Leah could sense the suspicion prowling just beneath the surface. She dragged her teacher-bag behind her like a corpse and tried for a sunny smile.

"Sorry, traffic was hell. And I had to stay late to do some lesson prep. You know how it is."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed, but he let it go. For now.