"Who?"
The tender voice carried a hint of nasal tones, probably tinged with impatience.
There was silence on the other end before the voice spoke again, "It's me."
The voice, feigning calmness, still held a touch of nervousness.
That's when Hannah finally opened her eyes, glanced at the clock on the wall, and feigned ignorance, "I... Who might that be?"
A trace of a smile played on her lips, her voice teasing and soft.
The cold night wind, carrying a bit of moisture, swept into the car, causing the man to catch his breath before saying quietly, "George River."
He had never realized before, that saying his own name could be such a slow process.
Hannah crawled out of bed, patted the startled Ginny, and then drew back the curtains to look down.
In the night, the sleek black luxury car parked sideways indeed stood out, but fortunately, the road was deserted.
She smiled, "Mr. River, have you switched careers to become a paparazzo?"
