Naime gripped the steering wheel as she dropped into the driver’s seat, her chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. The scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke still clung to her hair. Three people from her past, in one bar, on one night. Clifford’s guarded stare. Drevin’s familiar voice. Shelly’s unreadable smile. It felt less like coincidence and more like a reckoning.
She pressed her palm against her sternum as if she could calm the frantic rhythm inside.
Focus, Naime.
The engine roared to life beneath her trembling hands. The headlights carved pale tunnels through the darkness as she pulled out of the parking lot. The city at night blurred into streaks of red and white, brake lights and streetlamps smearing across her vision.
Diego.
The name alone steadied her for a second. He
