Chapter Eighty.
Leon rushed around the rear of Elliots car, where it was parked in the large garage. As the boot opened, he stared inside, concern etched on his face. Safron lay trembling slightly curled up in the foetal position.
“Babe,” he whispered, reaching inside to take hold of her trembling hands, to help her get out.
“Are you okay?” he asked, resisting the urge to throw Sarah-Sofia a disgusted look.
“I am fine, but is Elliot’s driving really better than Sarah-Sofia’s?” she asked. She had felt every bump in the road, every swerve of the car, each movement exaggerated from her position inside the boot.
“Trust me. Yes,” the corner of Leon’s lip tilted up in a half smile.
“Wow, she must be really bad,” Safron said, her big brown eyes, even larger than usual.
“Mama Mia, my
