Melinda stiffened when he began to speak. Ideas of him asking her distribute his things amongst his friends as though he were giving a last will and testament. If that were the case she would have reached across the table and smacked him. The muscles in her arm even readied to do just that when he asked her to get his key.
That urge subsided quickly. Rather, her eyes narrowed as he explained. Curiosity crept into her mind about the book and the painting. She knew better to ask, however. Especially here.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, even though it was bit of a sad smile. "You're okay with me being in your room?" She asked, after a moment. "Did they hit you?"