Inside the closest bedroom, a cold shiver ran down Karl's spine.
He'd almost slammed the door earlier when he heard Kaija asking Antony to produce his song, but he'd barely managed to hold himself back. Now Antony could sense he was here? He might as well walk out and fight that cursed producer already.
Back in the living room, all color drained from Kaija's face. Her shoulders jerked at Antony's question. "Ho—how could there be anyone else here but us?" she stammered, eyes darting left and right around the room. That damned Karl must've left something out in the open, otherwise how did Antony pick up his presence here so fast?
Her panicked reaction didn't escape Antony's scrutiny. He stepped forward and pointed directly at the shoe rack. "Then whose shoes are those? I doubt your tiny feet fit that size."
