His eyes twinkled as he looked ahead, “Yeah.”
I was confused. “Why not call the police then?”
“Idiot.” Mark chuckled. “Do you think the old lady celebrating her 80th birthday
today would agree to me calling the cops? Sometimes, there are other ways
to achieve the same result.”
That statement was intriguingly profound.
Surprised, I turned to Mark and smiled. “Mark, you’re different from the Mark I
knew before.”
“How so?” He paused, looking at me, “Or… do you not like this side of me?”
“No way!” I immediately protested, praising him, “You’ve become sharper and

more clever than the Mark I remember. I’m really impressed by how
thoroughly you think things out.”
In a situation like ours, we had no one to rely on but ourselves, especially
since he was deep in the treacherous waters of the Larson family. Not being
thorough was a recipe for disaster.
He seemed momentarily stunned, his eyes lighting up. “Really?”
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“Absolutely.” I nodded earnestly.
Maybe it was just my imagination, but Mark seemed to have let out a silent
sigh of relief, his tension easing considerably as if my question had made him
nervous.
When entering the Larson family’s banquet hall, I realized that the attendees
weren’t just the upper class of RiverCity but also some new faces.
Mark got me some food from the buffet, saying, “I need to step out for a bit.
You relax here, and call me if you need anything.”
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