BELLA'S POV - THE NEXT DAY
I carry a tray of dirty dishes to the kitchen when I see them through the café window.
Four men in black suits.
Looking exactly like the same men from two weeks ago.
My heart stopped as the tray slipped from my suddenly numb fingers, crashing to the floor in an explosion of ceramic and glass.
"Draga!" Mrs. Kovač rushed over. "Are you..."
"They're back." The words came out strangled. I couldn't look away from the window, watching the men spread out around the building. Very coordinated and professional. "The men who were looking for me. They're outside."
Mrs. Kovač's face went pale. She glanced at the window, then back at me. "Use the back door. Now."
"But..."
"NOW." She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the kitchen. "You go. I deal with them."
My feet
