Hey yourself, little chef. She then looked to Grandma Tate apologetically. Sorry for sleeping in.

Oh, shut your mouth. When was the last time you slept in past seven?

Its been a while, Rachel admitted as she fell in to help them with breakfast.

They ate breakfast together, with Grandma Tate asking Paige limitless questions about school, her pee-wee soccer league, and the sort of music and movies she was interested in. Rachel rarely spoke up, not because she was uninterested but because she wanted to make sure the two of them got in all of the conversation possible. She watched the ease with which Grandma Tate spoke to Paige, as if the death that was rapidly coming to claim her wasnt even on the radar. It made her envious, but it also solidified her decision not to tell Grandma Tate. She had her own hell to worry about in the coming months. Why make it harder with the news of her granddaughter also being taken out of the world far too early?

After breakfast, the three of them ventured out into the little cluster of flowerbeds along the backside of the house, just below the patiothe very same patio on which Grandma Tate had revealed her cancer to Rachel less than two weeks ago. Grandma Tate showed Paige how she pruned back certain bushes, how to tell when it was time to add new potting soil to the flowers, and then had her pick a small bouquet to put on the kitchen table. Paige enjoyed every single moment of it, particularly because it was the rare occasion where she was actually allowed to get her hands filthy.

After a game of Go Fish on the patio, Rachel snuck inside to make lunch. Grandma Tate had tried to take the duty, but Rachel insisted; she wanted her to have as much alone-time with Paige as possible. Besides, lunch was going to be nothing more than ham and cheese sandwiches, potato chips, and cut-up strawberries. It wasnt going to be a taxing process.

Yet, as Rachel was cutting the tops off of the strawberries, her phone began to buzz in her front pocket. She put the knife down and reached for the phone right away, her heart telling her that it must be Peter. He caller display, however, showed a different number. It was one she was overly familiar with and, though it instantly caused her some unease, she answered it anyway.

This is Gift.

Agent Gift, its Director Anderson. How are things going on your end? I hope youve managed to find some solace after the last few days youve had.

Solace, she thought. Thats hilarious. And he doesnt even know about how things are going with Peter.

I dont think Id use the word solace, sir. Have there been any leads or connections made into who may have broken into my house and placed a dead squirrel in my daughters room?