Phoebe's POV
Two days later, I woke up early and rode my motorcycle over to get Harriet for the move.
Harriet had been thrown out by her foster parents at fourteen. Since then, she'd barely scraped together enough from part-time work to eat and pay rent. She didn't have much to pack.
Everything she owned fit in one small suitcase—mostly school uniforms and textbooks.
We didn't need a moving company. I just called a local delivery service to transport Harriet's belongings to her new place.
I handed Harriet a helmet and drove her to Starbrook Estate on my bike. The security guards recognized my license plate from when I'd purchased the house, so they waved us through without question.
On our way to Harriet's new home, we passed my place. Movers were hauling furniture into the house next door. Looked like someone was settling in.
I didn't give it much thought. Meeting new neighbors wasn't on my agenda. I kept driving.
