Sienna always knew everything. It was her curse and her armour. She moved through the world cataloguing information the way other people breathed — automatically, constantly, without conscious effort—
And the catalogue included things like the way Melissa's robe always smelled like Phei's cologne in the morning, and the way there was only one bed being used in the master suite where Melissa claimed to be sleeping with Phei, and the way Phei's hand found Melissa's waist with the muscle memory of a man who'd been finding it in the dark for weeks.
Sienna knew. And she was silent about it. And Delilah couldn't tell if the silence was acceptance or a bomb with a very long fuse.
She paused at the living room threshold, glancing back once.
Phei had already turned Melissa around. One hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back. The other slid between her thighs beneath the robe, fingers disappearing into her mother's wet pussy.
