Grace's POV
I observed the young woman seated at a table in this upscale LA restaurant. She fidgeted with her phone while her freshly prepared fish and chips and avocado juice remained untouched on the table.
She appeared to fit right in, as though frequenting this trendy Downtown LA establishment was routine for her, though reality painted a completely different picture. This woman's wallet was empty.
Not that her financial status mattered anymore—her older sister would deliver a fresh credit card regardless.
I tightened my fist, drew in a steadying breath, and headed toward Amara.
Amara spotted me as I drew near. She glanced up with a smirk, "About time, Sis."
I stared down at Amara without speaking. Rage coursed through me because nothing was going according to plan.
