Leona Grant opened the notebook. Inside were messages written by Annabelle Linton.
It carried a faint, fresh scent. Her handwriting was neat and crisp, pleasant to look at.
Leona Grant flipped to a random page and saw one of her messages.
"I'm on a business trip to Astoria and will probably be back in a little over twenty days. The proposal for your company's newest project is in a green folder. You fell asleep last night, so I put it on the second shelf of your bookcase. You'll see it when you walk over."
Leona Grant could almost picture her before she left, hesitating over whether to tell him. But she would have given up, anticipating his certain cold mockery, and in the end, left for her business trip all alone.
Leona Grant's lips pressed into a sad line as he flipped to another random page.
