Chapter 18

At the café.

Nikita had arranged to meet at her own place. Latisha sat by the window, her gaze fixed on the fading bruise on Nikita's forehead, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. Clifford had forbidden her from seeing Nikita. If he found out about this, he would be furious.

Thinking she was just nervous about the meeting, Nikita patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Don't worry," she said with a warm smile. “I'll do all the talking."

Latisha managed a faint smile in return. For so many years, she had been completely alone. She had no friends besides Clifford; everyone else had always looked down on her. Nikita's kindness felt just like when Clifford had first burst into her life—a sudden ray of light in her bleak world.

After about ten minutes, a figure hurried in from outside, shaking the rain from his umbrella as he strode toward their table.

Nikita stood to greet him. "Mr. Taylor."

Mr. Taylor appeared to be in his forties. He was short and slender, with black-framed glasses and a friendly, approachable face.