But I kept thinking about two words from the message.
Only Olivia.
Not, If he mentions Olivia.
Not, If he admits there was a woman named Olivia.
Only.
At 5:42 that afternoon, I picked up my bag and left.
Marcus asked where I was going.
“I need some space.”
The address led to a small coffee shop about twenty minutes away.
Quiet.
Tucked along a side street.
The kind of place people visited when they didn’t want much attention.
When I entered, a woman near the back stood.
Beside her sat six other women.
Every one of them was looking directly at me.
Seven women.
Two tables pushed together.
Some looked angry.
One refused to meet my eyes.
Another slowly turned her coffee cup in circles without drinking.
The woman who had stood gestured toward an empty chair.
“Danielle?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Tessa.”
My legs suddenly felt weak.
I sat down.
