"Good morning, Godmother."
Sam looked at her.
Celeste gracefully moved to Sam's side, her steps as elegant and unhurried as her demeanor.
She smiled, looking in the direction Sam had been gazing.
"This morning would be better if a certain little thief hadn't sneaked into our house in the middle of the night."
Sam was momentarily speechless, then he smiled wryly.
"I came back too late last night. I didn't expect to disturb you, Godmother. I'm sorry."
Celeste shook her head with a smile, then turned to look at Sam.
"What bothers me isn't that. It's that you didn't come back with Angel."
Of course, she had to say that.
Sam felt he was starting to understand this woman's tactics.
First, she would make you lower your guard, then she would strike right at your guilty conscience.
