Laura was not so rude as she was.

He even pondered if she really was Laura.

If not, why the striking resemblance?

The likeness was uncanny.

He maintained his composure.

"You are joking."

With a swift glance, Annot retorted, “I'm dead serious."

Then she left, descending the stairs.

Undeterred, Forrest, at dinner time, asked the elder woman, "Do you offer the meal?"

The woman was stunned for a moment, and then she smiled.

"We have a mark on it. We are not responsible for eating. If you don't mind, you can have a simple meal at my home..."

"Mom," Annot interjected, "he's accustomed to gourmet meals. We're simple folk who can't afford such luxuries. Let's go eat and leave him to his business."

Then she ushered her mother away.

Forrest joined them, commenting, “I can adapt. I'm okay with simple food like pickles."

The elder woman warmly invited him, “Join us."

Annot shot Forrest an annoyed glance.

Her mother's approval left her no room for objections.

She suppressed her rage.

But she remained unreconciled.

The thought of enduring the man who had been a nuisance at her job now dining at her home was unbearable.