"Relax, nothing bad's gonna happen."
Celeste ended the call as soon as she said that, yanked off her Bluetooth earpiece, and stepped hard on the gas, slipping through the intersection just before the light turned red.
Caleb was about to follow, but the light flipped suddenly. He hit the brakes out of reflex, stopping just in time at the line.
"Isabella..."
The call had already cut off with a soft beep.
It was early winter. Fallen sycamore leaves covered the sidewalk of Harmony Avenue, golden and rustling with the cold air.
Celeste parked the car, then headed into a hidden-away Republican-style restaurant tucked around a corner. She picked a seat by the window.
It wasn't meal time yet, so the place was nearly empty.
About ten minutes later, Oliver finally showed up
