Nathan Redgrave's deep, dark eyes narrowed. He flicked the ash from his cigarette onto the ground. "Mom just called. She wants us to go back to the old residence now."
"Right now? But I'm still eating. Can we go tomorrow instead?"
"No. Where are you now? I'll come pick you up."
Nathan Redgrave's low voice held an authoritative tone that left no room for debate. There was also a hint of displeasure, though it was barely perceptible unless one listened closely.
Hannah Hale let out a reluctant "Oh." After hanging up, she sent the address to Nathan Redgrave.
"What's up? Who was that on the phone?"
Morgan Joyce asked casually, moving the beef from his bowl into Hannah Hale's.
"It was Nathan Redgrave. He said he's coming to pick me up to go to the old residence."
"Then you should hurry and eat. He probably won't get here too quickly."
