Olive’s POV “You’re back,” she said, looking up as I came in. “I was starting to worry. You’re later than usual.” I didn’t answer. I just went to the fridge and pulled out the wine bottle and grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured myself a generous amount, like more than I should probably drink on a weeknight but I didn’t care, I needed it. I downed half the glass in one long swallow and felt my mother watching me with growing concern. “Olive?” she said carefully. “Baby, what’s wrong?” I poured more wine and drank that too, and then I finally turned to look at her. “How do you know when someone is lying to you?” I asked....
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