Zaya stood frozen for a moment, her jaw tight, her green eyes flashing with something between frustration and embarrassment.
She knelt quickly, scooping up the fallen box and trying to shove the lid back on, but her movements were too hasty. A few drawings slipped out, scattering across the floor.
"I told Grandma to throw this away," she muttered, her voice clipped as she gathered the papers with sharp, deliberate motions.
I stood watching her, suspicion creeping into my chest. "Throw it away?" I echoed, crossing my arms. "Why would she keep it if you told her to toss it?"
Zaya glanced up, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Because she doesn't listen," she said, but there was no real heat in her words.
Something about the way she was moving quick, almost panicked and made me more curious. I stepped forward, crouching down and grabbing a few of the stray papers before she could snatch them all.