"Get out! !" Grace shouted.
Andrew turned a deaf ear and strode towards the house, calling out, "Harper, I know you're here. Come out, we need to talk."
The apartment wasn't big. Soon, all three bedrooms were checked, even the closets were reluctantly opened, but there was nothing to be found.
Grace's sneer echoed, "Want to check under the bed?"
Andrew's brows furrowed with determination. "Before you hand her over, what exactly are you expecting?"
"How do I even begin to hand her over? That's the question you should be pondering, Andrew. My best friend is mine to reclaim!" Grace's voice quivered with a mixture of anger and desperation.
Neither showed any sign of relenting. Andrew opted for a strategy of patience, knowing well that time was his ally in this battle of wills.
"You may have your bag of tricks, but unless I lay eyes on her myself, I won't be swayed. Harper will not escape me," he asserted firmly, his voice carrying the weight of his determination.