Anna stopped in front of Larson’s door, suddenly overcome by a wave of hesitation. Why was he looking for her? She wasn’t supposed to assist him today. What if Claire was right? What could she do? What would he do?
Anna shook her head and knocked, then let herself in only to find him on his knees next to the table, looking for something among the piles of notes and books. The expression of frustration on his face quickly changed as he looked up at her.
“Ah, Annabel,” he said as the edges of his lips turned upwards.
“I got your note,” she said, trying to suppress her smile as she waved the small piece of paper. He stared at it for a moment, then got to his feet, dusting himself up. “Do you need help with... What were you doing?”
“I might have lost... my pen. I can’t seem to find it,” he
