Chapter 91: Stand on Your Feet

Charlotte I stepped into the car and nearly stopped myself from gushing. The plush leather seats screamed nothing but luxury, a stark contrast to what one might see from the outside. “Lovely to see you,” Harold greeted, his smile wide as he sat at the other end of the backseat, close to the window. He seemed awfully cheerful this morning, which led me to conclude that he was indeed a morning person. “Shall we?” he asked as I settled into the chair and closed the door behind me. The car started shortly after, driving us away from the familiar area of my apartment and leading us outside the city to a place I was unfamiliar with. My eyes were glued to the window, watching the lives of people rushing to their Friday jobs and bumping into each other. I lived that life, I thought to myself, as I saw more people like me hurrying to open doors—of buildings and cabs—as though an extra minute of lateness could make a difference. I chuckled. It was like someone running to work at 8:00, who