A jolt shot through her fingertips, and Niamh instantly snatched her hand back. “There, it’s done.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Jonathan’s deep eyes, and he managed a wry smile. “You barely tried.”
“That’s why I told you to do it yourself,” Niamh retorted, tossing the used tissue into a nearby bin. “Now, what’s the other clue about Joker?”
Jonathan’s wry smile instantly turned sly. “There are no more clues. I’ll let you know when I find something new.”
“You tricked me!” Niamh fumed.
But Jonathan just shrugged nonchalantly. “Let’s just say I did.”
“You…” She was so angry she could barely speak. She stormed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Jonathan followed behind, his captivating eyes fixed on her slender back. Lana’s apartment was in an old building with no elevator, and Niamh climbed all seven floors in one go. But when they arrived, Lana wasn’t home.
“I should have called her first,” Niamh grumbled, running a hand through her hair in frustration.
“I was going to suggest that, but you were charging up the stairs so fast. I figured a little exercise wouldn’t hurt.”
Jonathan’s teasing only made her angrier. She pulled out her phone to call Lana, but it went straight to voicemail. As they started back down the stairs, Niamh suddenly asked, “By the way, why are you so desperate to hear me play the piano?”
Jonathan stopped, his expression slowly turning serious. Back in high school, he had been too arrogant. He had assumed that the piano music he heard could only have come from Rina, so the person playing had to be her. That single mistake led him to embrace Marina, never even bothering to verify her story about being sent to a juvenile rehabilitation center. He hadn't trusted Marina so much as he had trusted himself. He never imagined he could be wrong, so he never saw the need to investigate.

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