Annie stood in the warm kitchen, bundled in a bathrobe and surrounded by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, peering at the note Damien had left.

　　Off to work. Get some rest.

　　"The man's a poet," she said out loud.

　　"You're up, Miss Annie. What would you like to have for breakfast?" Mrs. Harper asked.

　　"Please just call me Annie. I won't be having breakfast, I have to get to the office"

　　"Oh, No. Damien instructed that you stay ...