25
I stopped my car on the road, a few feet from the gate of the O’Connor ranch—I tried to calculate the time right and hoped they were home, since I had given them one hour after the regular practice time—and questioned my sanity for the umpteenth time since confirming they stayed in the country.
What the hell? I wasn’t a chicken. Leo had helped me before. He could help me again.
I pulled down the sun visor and checked my makeup in the vanity mirror. If it had depended on me, I would have come here yesterday, after exchanging messages with Bia, but because I wanted to make sure the bruises were gone, I waited. Now, they were gone and nobody would ever know.
Swallowing my fear, I hit the accelerator and entered the property. It looked like any property around here. A long, winding road
