I sat on the bed, holding Carson’s note like it was some kind of puzzle.
“There’s a driver downstairs if you want to go out today.”
‘What did that even mean? Was I free to go anywhere now? Or was it just another way to keep an eye on me?”I asked myself, expecting no reply from anyone.
I tossed the note on the side table and sighed. “Whatever.”
I took a quick shower, changed into something simple, and headed downstairs.
The house was quiet, as usual. Cynthia was already cleaning. She smiled when she saw me.
“Good morning, ma.”
“Morning.”
I wasn’t in the mood for small talk. I just kept walking until I reached the front door.
True to the note, there was a black car parked outside. A driver stood beside it, wearing dark shades.
“Good morning, ma,” he said, opening the door for me.
