I have no idea how I was able to convince myself that the text wasn't some sort of hallucination, but right now, I’m seated in a quiet restaurant. Not quiet, per se. It’s still bustling with people. I call it quiet because I can hear the sound of my own heart beating in my ears.
I’m not supposed to hear that. Not in the noisy public.
I’m tucked into the farthest corner, slightly hunched over a table for two, dressed like I’m auditioning for a f*****g crime documentary reenactment—black hoodie that I had to steal from Roman’s closet and a pair of sunglasses, all so I won’t get noticed by Maximus.
But all I’m doing is fooling myself. If Maximus is keeping tabs on you, there’s nothing you can do to hide.
Which is why I shouldn’t even be here in the first place. Why I should’ve ignored the
