“You’ve mentioned that before. You don’t like them.” I study his face, his gaze locked on mine with the faintest trace of trepidation. “Any reason why?” “I like the part about eating food I didn’t have to cook,” he replies. “Not having to wash any dishes? Great. But then they destroyed the idea by letting people in.” Something about the quick cadence of his words, how easily they roll off his tongue, tells me he’s leaned on them at least once before.
