The next day, Rain woke up early, ready to report back to work. Only this time, she wasn't alone.
"Good morning, daughter," Iza greeted her. The woman, who was old enough to be her mother, was also undercover at the moment.
Rain chuckled at the greeting. "Morning, Mother dear. What do we have for breakfast?"
"Oh, I'm supposed to be sick, so get your ass outta here and just order something on your way out," Iza snorted.
"Geez, it's not like someone is spying on us inside this small apartment," Ron grumbled, his face crumpled with mock annoyance. "Can you at least cook an omelet for us?"
Rain chuckled and joined in on the banter. "You're supposed to be a drunkard. Where's the gambling house you're supposed to be at today?"
In truth, she'd rather do Ron's assignment. She missed playing in the gambling houses and winning big at the same time—hitting two birds with one stone if she could describe it.
