Mart’s POV.
I dangled my car keys in my hands as I marched down the hallway on my way out of the house.
“Mart we’re not done talking!” Sarah hissed some steps behind me.
It didn’t faze me that she was nagging me at all. What rather irritated me beyond reason was the fact that she expected for it to get to me. She wanted it to bother me that she was disturbed about something. The act in itself wasn’t the problem but the sheer selfishness of the motive.
So I paid not even the slightest attention to her calls. The door came in sight — the last barrier standing between me and my freedom. I’d booked an appointment with Amber Wallace the previous day only for Julia Berger to come up with an insane reason for a meeting. And it wasn’t just me at the meeting. Maxwell Fitzgerald — for all his s
