But the villa was still under renovation, with workers coming and going every day. The owner’s refusal could only mean one thing: he was afraid she’d change her mind and try to take back the valuable books she had left behind.
Cynthia tried again, assuring him she had no intention of taking any of the books she had promised to leave him. This time, Mr. Robinson's reply was a blunt, two-word message.
[No.]
He had completely shut down her request, despite her politeness.
Cynthia sat in her car and let out a soft sigh. She waited until night fell before starting the engine and driving towards the villa.
She had lived there for a long time, and the security guards at the gate still recognized her, so she drove into the complex without any trouble. She parked in front of the villa, where a sign hung on the gate: “Under Renovation, No Entry.”
She placed her hand on the keypad lock and tentatively entered the password she had used when she lived there. Holding her breath, she pressed the unlock button. Unsurprisingly, it beeped: Password Error.
With a frustrated purse of her lips, she looked over at the large tree growing in the corner of the yard. It seemed that was her only way in. Cynthia was suddenly grateful she had insisted on keeping the tree when the property management wanted to cut it down. Otherwise, she’d have no way in at all tonight.
She rarely climbed trees, or exercised for that matter, and it took several failed attempts before she finally managed to scramble up into the branches. From her vantage point, the eight-foot wall looked dauntingly high. She had already kicked off her heels to make the climb easier, and she could see a layer of sharp pebbles lining the ground below. If she jumped, she thought, the stones would probably pierce the soles of her feet.


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