Annabelle Linton was so angry she nearly smashed her phone.
Just as she was fuming, she heard a noise at the door.
When she looked over, Leona Grant pushed the door open and walked right in, casually tossing a small metal wire aside.
Annabelle Linton stood there, completely dumbfounded. 'A legendary lock-picking master?'
Leona Grant strode in triumphantly, a perfect smile playing on his lips. "Good morning, Annabelle Linton. I've come to take you home."
Annabelle Linton finally snapped out of it and glared at him. "Leona Grant, the hospital called and told me to return. This was your doing, wasn't it!"
"Yes," Leona Grant admitted freely. He plopped down on the sofa as if he owned the place. "The hospital called this morning, said they were short-staffed, and asked me what they should do. I told them to figure it out themselves. Who knew they'd decide to call you back? It's perfect, though. We can go together."
Annabelle Linton scoffed. "Ask you? And who do you think you are?"
