Chapter 23
Dakota knew he looked like a kid, with his eyes wide and his mouth ajar. They had stayed that way since they set foot in the city. How could he help it? Gazing upon the strange mix of new skyscrapers and old colonial structures, the elaborate metal, lush greenery, and bright colors—and then they reached the French Quarter: arguably the most beautiful part of New Orleans.
A tourist trap, Terrell said. Bars, hotels, and shops designed to empty visitors’ wallets.
But he didn’t care. The city felt so alive. In an instant, he thought that he could remain here for years, marveling at the horse-drawn carriages, trickling fountains, and flourishing gardens. Even in the middle of a weekday, people could be found everywhere. And little wonder why! Music filtered into the street from ha
