After knowing Who She Is They Kneeled novel Chapter 31

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Chapter 31 Mistaking Annelise for a Pauper

“You’re full of jokes,” Jonathon said, shaking his head with a grin, not taking her seriously. “Just keep your wits about you. If you need help, you know where to find me. I may just be a general manager, but I’ve got connections.”

Annelise’s brow lifted in surprise. General manager? From his casual demeanor, she’d pegged him as an errand runner.

A flush of embarrassment crept up her neck at the misjudgment.

“There’s one more thing I’d like to ask for your help with,” Jonathon said.

Annelise arched a brow. “What?”

Jonathon glanced around to ensure they were alone before lowering his voice and continuing, “Sir Caldwell’s here in Criford because his missing granddaughter was trafficked here. We had a lead, but it’s gone cold. You meet all sorts of people in your line of work, so could you help me look into it?”

Annelise’s mind flickered to a case she’d recently turned down.

A pang of frustration hit her. Lately, it seemed she couldn’t escape ties to this missing heiress of the Caldwell family.

“Alright,” she agreed, keeping her thoughts to herself.

Jonathon softened, not wanting to burden her further. “Let me walk you home. It’s dark out here.”

Annelise didn’t protest, falling into step beside him.

At first, Jonathon assumed she was headed for the upscale neighborhood nearby. He felt those sleek, modern buildings seemed more fitting for someone of her poise.

But to his shock, Annelise veered into a dim, narrow alley. The street was sparsely lit, with broken lamps casting long shadows over uneven pavement.

Jonathon’s brows knitted together as he took in the rundown surroundings.

Annelise stopped in front of a small, weathered storefront, its faded sign proclaiming it a

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Chapter 31 Mistaking Annelise for a Pauper

1280 (Vouchera

clinic.

A tattered poster by the door advertised: “Foot massage 5 dollars, full massage 8 dollars, herbal specials!

It looked like a cheap, questionably legitimate massage parlor.

Jonathon stared, incredulous. “Annie, this is…”

“My grandma’s place,” Annelise said simply, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Jonathon’s heart sank. “Annie… if things are tough at home, I can help. I could get you a proper place to stay…”

Annelise cut him off, her tone firm but kind. “Jonny, you’ve got it wrong. I’m not poor.”

“Not poor?” Jonathon’s mind raced, his voice barely a whisper as he gestured at the crumbling storefront.

“You live here and say you’re not struggling? You’re so young, yet you start to carry the weight of your family. Besides, you are running around doing free clinics. No wonder you skip classes… You must be trying to scrape together every penny for them!”

Annelise saw the misunderstanding in his eyes but didn’t bother correcting him. Explaining would be too complicated.

“Think what you want, Jonny,” she said with a helpless shrug.

Jonathon looked at her, his gaze softening like he was staring at a naive teenager. “Listen to me, Annie. The Caldwells and that bigwig in the hospital? They’re loaded. Don’t charge them a measly 160 dollars for your services. Ask for more. They’d think it’s a steal!”

“Got it,” Annelise nodded, humoring him. She knew he wasn’t wrong. Once she started taking on long–term patients, she’d have to charge market rates.

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