Chapter 35
Nina’s POV
The man’s laugh died in his throat the moment my scream sliced through the morning air. He turned fully now, cigarette still smoldering between yellowed fingers, eyes narrowing as he took me in properly.
Mud-streaked legs, soaked black top clinging like a second skin, hair plastered in dark ropes across my face, bare feet bleeding onto the marble plinth. I looked like something the river had coughed up and decided not to keep.
He tilted his head, sizing me up the way people size up stray dogs—half pity, half annoyance.
“You speak English?” he asked, accent thick but clear, rolling the words like he had practiced them in front of a mirror.
I wiped rainwater and tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. “Obviously. And you speak it better than I expecte
