Rylee’s bubbly personality and refulgent smile could brighten anyone’s day. Anyone except Clifton. Clifton mistrusted perky people. He believed they were hiding something nefarious behind their shimmering friendliness.
It was that perkiness that helped Rylee secure her patients’ advocate position at the VA. Clifton suspected she was a sleeper there to gather intelligence on the residents, an accusation the facility admins refused to take seriously.
“Good morning, Cliff,” she practically chirped.
“That’s Sgt. Mason, to you.”
“Someone’s grumpy-whumpy this morning,” Rylee said, affecting cloying motherese.
“Screw you.”
“Dear, sweet, Sgt. Mason,” Rylee said, smiling her sweetest smile. “You’ll die first.”
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