It was a bustling June in the lab, and Roseanne had been going nonstop for two weeks before finally getting a day off.
She had just finished feeding her fish early in the morning when Norris called.
"Is Anne up?"
"Yeah, I'm up."
"Why not sleep in? I thought you said you had the day off from the lab to rest."
"My internal clock's set, I guess. How's mom?"
"In her study."
"Working on her novel again?"
"Yep! You know her; mornings are when her muse speaks loudest."
Roseanne's thoughts drifted to the matter of the contract, her gaze intensifying, "Dad, has mom's publisher been around lately?"
"Not that I've seen. Why? They do most of their communicating online these days."
"Just curious."
After hanging up, Roseanne headed to the kitchen to whip up some breakfast.
Meanwhile, Norris busied himself in the backyard tending to his garden.
Madge was in her study, fingers flying over the keyboard, crafting line after line into thrilling narrative arcs.
All was calm and serene.
Unbeknownst to them, not far from their cozy suburban home, in the faculty housing area where their old house stood, a woman was growing impatient as she knocked on the door.
"Hello? Madge—are you there?!"
Nadine was dressed to the nines in a Chanel suit, clutching a Louis Vuitton handbag, her heels sinking into the muddy ground, visibly agitated.
Such surroundings!
Such conditions!
Worse than a dog's kennel!
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