Phoebe's POV
The next morning, Johnson arrived at our place with what looked like genuine remorse. I watched from the window as Harold, ever the diplomat, welcomed him inside without any drama.
I was heading out for my morning run when I spotted Malcolm doing pull-ups in the yard. "Harold's not being too rough on Johnson, is he?" I called out.
Malcolm glanced toward the house where both men sat talking and shook his head. "Nah, he's all smiles. Looks like they're getting along fine."
I nodded, though my mind was already working overtime.
I knew Harold better than most people did. He'd been suspicious of Johnson just yesterday, and someone like him doesn't just flip his attitude overnight without reason.
He's definitely up to something, I thought as I continued my run.
I had morning classes to get to. When I returned from my run, Johnson was already gone. Harold and Malcolm had moved to the yard for some sparring practice.
