Grace sighed as she let herself into her dingy apartment. Her body ached from hours on her feet and carrying heavy trays loaded with food and drinks. She wasn’t sure how much longer she would take it. There were still two days before she could call and speak with the DaLairs again. She should have given them less time.
They were rich. It wasn’t like they needed the money or didn’t have it to spare. She was confident they would do anything to protect their precious princess.
“Hello Grace,” a gruff voice suddenly spoke.
She whirled around as a figure turned on a lamp, illuminating part of the room. Seated on her sofa was an old man with a cane. Beside him was a younger man who seemed content to remain silent.
“W-who are you? How did you get in here?” Grace demanded.
“Good questions,
