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Not that it has to be very low since no one is going to co It’s just that I prefer to fly under the radar for as long as possible I find it’s a lot harder to wear out a welcome that way
The smarter parts of me almost overrule my curiosity Almost
I have to see why there’s an adorable, pantsuit-wearing, falsie-toting granny on hborhood, on a scale of one to terrible, falls somewhere close to terrible The house then, on a scale of one to have seen better days, has most definitely seen better days The undeniable security systeests that a very radical, dangerous person is hiding in here
Yet, she’s just standing there, clutching a luxurious black and sparkly evening bag Is that a strand of pearls at her throat? It’s definitely a strand of pearls I can’t leave this poor, innocent, probably confused, and maybe even lost—possibly senile?—old lady out in the hborhood
On a scale of one to a bad person, I’s—not things that hurt anyone physically—though , so I’m not exactly innocent That said, even I know I can’t just leave an old lady to fend for herself
That’s why I finda brow What do people say in the south? Oh, right “Ma’am?”
The first words out of the old firecracker’s h alert She’s sharp as a tack, definitely not confused, and not senile in the least Her hands move to her hips, and she doesn’t need to lean forward and peer at“You are that lady hacker?”
“Uh…” I’h that understanding flashes in the old lady’s pale blue eyes “How did you find me?”
IIf someone from my past wanted to deal with me, and they sent an old lady assassin to bust uess I’h I pissed people off, but as far as I know, no one wants me dead
“It’s not as though you have an ‘I an on your door,” the old lady cackles She sticks out a bony hand “Helen Cromwell at your service, but—” she inserts a wink, “I’ you’ll be at mine”
I glance behind her and see only the night She has an expensive black car parked at the curb There’s a shadow of a guy inside, probably a driver, but I don’t want tofor her to breach the line and infiltrate the house