The following morning, I continued my routine and went for my morning jog. When I returned to the packhouse, I walked in through the back door and, honestly, I was not surprised to find Landon waiting for me; I had kind of expected it since I hadn’t asked for permission to leave before heading out.
He was leaning against the bench in the laundry room, which I needed to pass through to reach the stairs that led to my room.
With his arms crossed, he stared at me as I entered.
“I thought I said you couldn’t leave without my permission,” he said.
“You knew I jog every morning. I didn't think that counted,” I replied.
“It does. You’re not allowed to go on those morning jogs anymore,” he said, trying to walk away.
“Why? I’m not doing anything. I’m just jogging. Ask your patrols; they al
