Holly didn’t hear the rest. She was too busy watching Gray and the dawning horror in his eyes.
Her heart galloped as she looked down at the paper in her hand. Clever little Anna had written a rudimentary play script with a list of characters and lines of dialogue beside the characters’ names.
It was the sort of creative writing exercise the twins had been encouraged to try at their progressive school in Manhattan, and Holly wanted to be thrilled for them. She was thrilled, actually, but she was also very worried about Gray.
Were her suspicions about his literacy correct? Was this his personal D-Day?
Judging by the sudden paleness of his complexion and the unhappy twist of his mouth as he stared at the paper, the answer was…
Yes.
Her heart broke for him as she watched him force a crooked smile.
‘Wow,’ he said. ‘A play. Aren’t you two clever?’
‘You have to put on your growliest voice,’ Josh informed him.
‘I see.’ Gray tapped the paper and blew out his cheeks thoughtfully. ‘So have you changed much of my original story?’
‘We’ve changed lots!’ exclaimed Anna. ‘See!’ She pointed importantly to her script. ‘You can read it all here. We’ve made up a whole new story, so we can have the owl and the mouse, as well as a frog and a wombat and a pig. There are parts for everyone.’
Gray looked decidedly ill.
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