The driver glanced at his phone. "I can take a shortcut through the neighborhood. It might save us a few stoplights, but I can't promise we'll get there in half an hour."
"Let's give it a shot."
There wasn't much else to do.
The driver was surprisingly efficient, managing to drop Sylvia off at the corner near her studio right around the half-hour mark.
But as Sylvia stepped out of the car, she glanced down at her swollen ankle with a frown.
She couldn't risk Bridget seeing her ankle and jumping to conclusions, so she needed an excuse for her injury.
Thinking quickly, she noticed a nearby concrete planter.
Taking a deep breath, she scraped her swollen ankle against it. The sharp pain was so intense that she collapsed against it, breaking out in a cold sweat.
Clenching her fists to fight through the pain, she dialed Freya's number.
Right now, she needed a witness.
Freya.
She was probably the one who tipped off Bridget, so having her as a witness was perfect.
Freya answered quickly, "Sylvia? Where are you? Ms. Simpson brought in a bunch of afternoon snacks."
"Freya, I need your help. I fell and can't walk."
"You fell? Okay, I'm on my way."
Freya arrived in no time. Instead of checking on Sylvia first, she scanned the area suspiciously.
It wasn't until she noticed the bloodstain on the planter's edge that she seemed to accept Sylvia's story.
She quickly helped Sylvia up. "How did you manage to fall?"
Sylvia sighed. "The driver parked too close in. I didn't see the step when I got out and took a tumble."
Freya didn't question it further and helped Sylvia back to the studio. "But… was the Bailey Company meeting supposed to take this long?"
Sylvia, examining her wound, replied nonchalantly, "Traffic. You know how busy it gets near Bailey Company around this time, with all the business vehicles."
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