"It''ste," Lionel repeated, "and I have things to do."


    His mind drifted to the text he''d sent Hannah. She hadn''t replied, and a knot of irritation tightened in his chest. She always replied instantly. This was new.


    Sandra bit her lip, her gaze falling to the stone steps below. An idea began to form.


    "You''re right, it iste. Let''s go," she said, her voice suddenly cheerful. She stood up, her hands sped behind her back, and started down the steps with a light gait. "Lionel, thank you foring out with me tonight. I really... ah!"


    "Watch out!"


    Lionel lunged forward, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. "Are you alright?"


    Sandra clung to his shirt, her breathing shallow and panicked. "I''m fine... ouch... I think I twisted my ankle. It really hurts."


    She squeezed out a couple of tears, forcing a pained smile as she looked up at him. "It''s nothing, Lionel. I''ll just get a cab to the hospital to have it checked out. You should go. Don''t let me hold you up."


    Lionel''s brow furrowed as he saw the pain etched on her face. After a moment, he said, "I''ll take you to the hospital."


    "What?" Sandra shook her head. "No, you have things to do. It''s just a sprain, it''s not a big deal."


    He pulled out his phone, sent a quick text, and put it away. "I can''t let you go alone thiste at night. Let''s get you to the car."


    She hid a triumphant smile and nodded. He helped her take a couple of steps, but she cried out in pain.


    "Lionel," she whispered, "could you... could you carry me?"


    As he looked at her pained, tear-filled eyes, an image of Hannah shed in his mind. She often looked at him with that same vulnerable expression.


    When Lionel didn''t respond immediately, Sandra quickly pulled away. "I''m sorry," she stammered, grabbing the railing for support. "The pain must be making me delirious. I shouldn''t have asked."


    She began to hop down the stairs, wincing with each movement. After three or four steps, Lionel still hadn''t moved. Sandra''s grip on the railing tightened Had she miscalcted? Maybe she had pushed too hard. She had to be careful not to overy her hand.


    "I''ll carry you," Lionel said, finally walking over to her. "You''ll only make it worse trying to get down on your own." He swept her up into his arms.


    Sandra nestled against his chest, her cheeks flushing as she murmured a soft thank you. If she weren''t afraid of arousing his suspicion, she would have taken out her phone right then and there to capture the moment for Hannah to see.


    The next morning, Hannah woke up to the stark realization that Lionel hadn''te home at all. A heaviness settled in her chest, but she forced herself to push the thoughts away.


    When she arrived at the office, a colleague handed her a file.


    "This is the guy," her colleague said. "He bribed one of our employees to steal confidential files. The problem is, he was smart about it-no paper trail no hard evidence. He''s denyinga everything, and we''re kind of stuck."


    Hannah took the file. As she looked at the photo on the top right corner, her eyes narrowed.


    "What is it? Do you know him?" her colleague asked.


    “He looks familiar,” Hannah murmured, studying the picture more closely. He looked just like the man from sandra''s blind date. She had only gotten a quick look at his face when he''d turned to yet Sandra before storming out, but the resemnce was uncanny.