Chloe
The day Omario came looking for Layla was a Tuesday.
Late afternoon. The kind where the sun hangs low and tired, like it’s thinking about quitting early. Heat stuck to everything. Asphalt smelled burnt. The neighborhood was quiet in that fake way—too quiet for a place that usually had kids yelling and radios blasting.
I was on my break at the bar when my phone buzzed.
You seen Layla?
It was one of our regulars, especially from Omario. That alone felt weird.
Omario, the man who adored Layla, and wanted her to give him a chance to prove himself—continued to search for her, but couldn’t. He was hamstrung. I promised to help.
By the time I got off shift, the sky was turning orange. I drove straight to Layla’s place. I didn’t even think about it. Just felt that pull in my gut th
