From his car window, Bryson watched her depart.

As Hannah approached the community’s security booth, she glanced back and called out, “Until next time, Mr.

Mitchell.

It wasn’t until Hannah vanished from view that Bryson regained his composure and drove off.

Upon reaching her home, Hannah kicked off her shoes onto the carpet and sank onto the sofa, even before the room lights were on.

Suddenly, her phone rang.

Recognizing the caller, she promptly answered.

Loud music blasted from the other end, prompting Hannah to distance the phone from her ear.

“Lydia, are you at a bar again?”

“Hannah, Lydia’s in a drinking contest with someone.

I can’t dissuade her.

overdoes it, I’ll get blamed,” a female voice, distorted by the bar’s music, relayed

Hannah responded, “Give

I’m on my way.

been sent through

keep an eye on

I’ll be there soon.

Hannah quickly headed

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address, she urged the driver to hasten to

bar’s vibrant lights momentarily

to the center of the

Lydia in a booth, her distinct red hair waving

the deafening beats from the

Lydia just as the

bottle away, Hannah yelled,

flung herself at her, planting

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