56
Peter
I look out the window again, where Sara is talking to her parents in the parking lot. They’ve been at it for a solid eight minutes, and I wish I had a listening device on Sara so I could hear what they’re saying.
Judging by the wild gesticulating by all three, emotions are running high.
Maybe I should plant a bug with listening capabilities on Sara. Maybe even a few—one in her phone, one in her bag, and another couple in her favorite footwear. I already track her phone, so I know where she is at all times, but this would give me an additional peace of mind.
The table is all set, but I hold off on putting out the food. Finally, the Sara-tracking app on my phone informs me that her phone is in the building and approaching the apartment, so I walk over to open the door for her a
