The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

As the quartet happily indulged in a cozy fondue dinner, Leopold brought over the documents from headquarters.

Peering through the empty doorway, Leopold hesitated, unsure whether to enter.

He texted Anna: [Where are you guys?]

Anna, who had not quite finished chewing her lamb, hit the voice message button, “On a mission, gotta stick to Ms. Vivienne like glue.”

Vivienne said, “Just drop the stuff off, and don’t be a nuisance. You mess up the deal, I’ll break your legs.”

Percival added his own threat, “I’ll dislocate your arm.”

Thomas kept it simple, “Good luck, man!”

Listening to the sounds of bubbling fondue, fizzing sodas, and the stubborn mastication of lamb, Leopold was in disbelief.

Was this really a mission?

This was sheer torture!

But he had no choice; he had to deliver the documents quickly.

Griffin had already sent a reminder in the Little Bombs group chat – a special group Vivienne had created for convenience.

With no other option, Leopold donned a mask and hat, covering himself completely, and entered Griffin’s home.

The evening was setting in, and Griffin had only a desk lamp on, leaving the main lights off.

Three different-colored pens lay strewn across documents, each marking various annotations.

Leopold cleared his throat gently, but Griffin showed no reaction.

He moved closer and tapped Griffin’s head with the documents, “Hey, the papers…”

“Ah!”

Bam!

as he staggered

came to, or more accurately, when he could finally open his

was there, casually perusing the documents, and upon seeing Leopold awake, she nonchalantly remarked, “Are you nuts? Sneaking up behind people all

right eye. “You’re the one who’s nuts! Didn’t you say you didn’t want to see me? How else was I supposed to

“Since when did you start following orders so

have the energy to argue. I’ve delivered your stuff;

fast,” Griffin pointed outside, “It’s pouring rain, and the

Why would

traffic,” Griffin said as if it were the most obvious thing

his fists, grinding his teeth, “Couldn’t you, just maybe, help me out and move the car into

garage isn’t for

was speechless, finally settling on

work as if he was not

began to rumble.

Griffin gestured

found nothing but instant noodles and pre-made sandwiches inside, alongside cans

help but ask, “Is this

affirmation, “Just me here, so I make

reason, Leopold felt

Griffin seemed much thinner than

of course, she would be on a diet like

“For a young woman, you could take better care of yourself.

turned to find Griffin with headphones on, ignoring

on the floor under the light, falling across

only sausage left from the fridge into Griffin’s noodle cup, then placed it quietly on the

couch, wolfing down the nutritionally

the rain had not stopped, and Griffin was still engrossed in her research. Bored out of his mind, Leopold

he found Griffin asleep on the carpet, leaning against the couch, blue pen still clutched in hand, the other two pens

instant noodles were

sighed. “You’re

he approached and squatted beside her, staring at her with unknown thoughts in his mind. Suddenly, Griffin’s head dropped, and Leopold caught it

little flushed, and so was

minutes of silence, he lifted her into a more

at the untouched instant noodles, he tossed it aside, grabbed