Chapter 12 Stefan

• I can't believe it.
• I refuse to believe it.
• It's been way past fifteen minutes since the door clicked shut behind my assistant, and I'm still staring at the handle with dry eyes. Waiting for it to jiggle. Waiting for Sadie to burst back in here and declare this is all a terrible joke—that this is the long-awaited sequel to the April Fool's Day cream tart made of shaving cream that she left on my desk last year. Yet another example of her god-awful sense of humor.