“Stop putting me in your books!” shouted the woman. The other diners in the café jumped.
“Pardon me?” said Anton. “Do I know you?”
“You must! I’ve read your books. You based your character, Joanna Mills, on me. I’ve counted over one hundred and sixty three events that matched my personal life. You’ve been following me!”
“I’m sorry, miss, but I think this must be a coincidence.”
“Don’t you ‘coincidence’ me! Leave me alone!”
As the women stomped away from the café, Anton calmly put down his fork and called his agent.
“She knows,” he said. “It’s time for one last story: ‘The Death of Joanna Mills’.”