A cold, dismissive smirk played on Issac Monroe’s lips, though he chose not to voice the scathing retort forming in his mind. Instead, his question was deceptively mild, a neutral probe: "Is there something you need?"
Susie Barrett took this as an invitation to press her advantage. She stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of calculated sincerity and brazen opportunism. Her voice, still laced with that sickeningly sweet coo, adopted a tone of mock-earnestness. "Well, Mr. Monroe, as the old saying goes, a drop of kindness should be repaid with a gushing spring. And what we provided was far more than a mere drop—it was a life-saving grace."
She paused, allowing her words to hang in the air, weaving her narrative with practiced ease. "Had it not been for our family, your father w
