Café Conversations
267 Words
By the end of the week, Ethan had found excuses to visit the café every afternoon. Lila would tease him — “You’re single-handedly funding our coffee budget” — but she seemed to relax in his presence.
They talked about everything: music, literature, dreams. She told him she wanted to work for an NGO someday, maybe in Nigeria, to help rebuild schools in poor communities. “It’s what my parents were trying to do,” she said. “Before…” She trailed off.
“Before the accident?” Ethan asked gently.
Her gaze darkened. “It wasn’t an accident. But proving it would mean going against people too powerful to touch.”
He wanted to ask more, but her manager called her back to work. When she turned, Ethan noticed the faint scar along her wrist — thin, pale, almost invisible — the kind left by a frightened child clutching shattered glass.
That night, he couldn’t sleep. He searched “Lila Hart Lagos 2008” online. An old article appeared:
“American aid workers killed in home invasion. Child survivor missing for several hours before rescue.”
Ethan’s pulse quickened. Next to the report was a grainy photo — a man in uniform wearing a silver wristwatch.
He leaned back in his chair, the glow of the laptop casting long shadows across his room.
The same watch had been in Vale Industries’ security division years ago. His father’s company.
*** Ethan’s phone buzzed — an encrypted message from an unknown number.
“Stay away from the girl. You don’t know what you’re walking into.”
- Writer
