Watch the nun
Chloe’s hands trembled as she approached the long table where the quadruplets sat with their plates of cake, their juice glasses clinking against each other. The tray in her hands felt impossibly heavy, though it held nothing more than finger food and bright plastic cups. She kept her hood low, her face bent toward the ground, willing herself invisible.
Just serve the food. Don’t be seen. Walk away.
She set the tray down carefully, her body taut with nerves. One of the children, Pretty looked up with wide curious eyes. She tilted her head, her curls bouncing, and reached forward with tiny fingers.
In one swift, innocent motion, Pretty tugged at the edge of Chloe’s hood.
The fabric slipped back.
Her face was exposed.
Jamal blinked. His fork clattered to the plate, the
