203. Gun?

“Oh, my god!” Nurse Clara exclaims as she walks into my house, wide eyes staring at everything, “Oh, my GOD! You people actually live in places like this? It’s not just for show?”

“It appears so,” I reply, and suddenly her expression snaps to me. She looks a bit different from the last time I saw her, like she had a different hairstyle, and certainly dressed differently in casual clothes. She has had the sense to wear dark-colored, non-descript clothing and clutched a large duffle bag to her chest. I walk up to her and stretch my hand at her, “Hello there. Thank you for coming at such a short notice. You have my gratitude for this.”

She carefully places the duffle bag on the couch right next to her and shakes my hand.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Greyson. I just hope that this won’t be some true crime podcast episode where all of us die in the end. Or worse, disappeared off the face of the earth with no information whatsoever. Or in witness protection, God forbid.” She tells me and I can’t he
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