Arlene's POV
"I've never seen that man care about anything beyond his own schemes," Linton mutters as I adjust the straps of the backpack Mr. Warner handed me this morning. Her blunt observation makes me smile despite my nerves. She's not wrong, though I wouldn't phrase it quite so harshly.
The backpack feels heavier than it should against my shoulders. Mr. Warner insisted it would look natural with the twins in tow, less suspicious than if he carried it himself. Security would search him immediately, he'd explained, but they'd overlook a mother with her children.
When I'd asked directly if he was using me to smuggle contraband, he'd nodded without hesitation. His little lecture about seizing opportunities had been surprisingly convincing. I'd given myself the same pep talk before leaving home this morning.
Between you and me, Niall, I want whatever he's planning to succeed, even if it irritates Warner somehow. Unless it actually hurts him.
