BLAKE WRAY
After going to dinner with Hailey, at her request and under my mother’s insistence, it was necessary, if I wanted some peace, I arrived home.
“Penelope, what are you still doing here?” I ask. It’s nine at night, and I had already noticed, upon entering, that Moss’s car isn’t here.
“Miss Lauren hasn’t returned yet. I thought I should wait, in case she came back and wanted dinner,” she says, and I feel my phone vibrating. It’s Samuel. “She left without having lunch,” she tells me.
“Really?” I ask, walking in.
“Yes. She didn’t seem very well before she left either,” she says, and I observe her. “Why do you say that? Did something happen?” I question.
“Not exactly,” she says, hesitantly. “She was very absent-minded,” she says, and I sigh. “Don’t worry about that. The driver wi
