The shopping center was alive with noise and color. Marina, Eva, and Ema vanished into the crowd, their arms laden with bags, almost immediately. I, however, had no interest in shopping.
I found a quiet coffee shop tucked into a corner, ordered a black coffee, and settled into a chair by the window.
As I lounged in the coffee shop, my fingers tracing the rim of my espresso cup, a familiar presence prickled at the edge of my awareness.
My gaze lifted, and there she was—a woman in a crisp police uniform, her boots clicking against the tiled floor with deliberate, predatory rhythm.
The badge glinted under the café lights, but it was her face that made my pulse kick up. Sarah. Carolina's sister-in-law.
She didn't just walk toward me—she stalked, like a panther who'd finally cornered her prey.
