Niaube was a tiny seaside town with fewer than a thousand residents. Noelle's little shop was on the coastal street. This was primarily a fishing town, over 4,000 miles from Philadelphia.
Sea breeze carried the salt-tinged air. The streets were narrow, lined with colorful little houses. My place was close to Noelle's, around the corner where she couldn't easily spot me.
I positioned myself behind a wood carving near her shop, keepinghidden while watching her through the storefront window. Noelle was talking with a customer, smiling.
She wore a beige knit sweater and jeans, hair casually pulled into a ponytail. Simple, plain, yet beautiful enough to capture my complete attention.
After the customer left, I was about to approach when I saw a familiar figure emerge from the back door.
Lorenzo Conti. He was actually here! So he had helped her escape.
He was carrying a child. My breathing stopped.
The child wore a soft green onesie, curly hair framing his forehead, giggling happily.
Noelle walked over, naturally taking the child from his arms as the three of them left the shop.
"Tara, he just woke up." Lorenzo's tone was gentle and familiar.
"Thank you, Lorenzo." She kissed the child's forehead. "Hey, baby, did you miss mommy?"
The child giggled, little hands patting her cheek. Finally, I could see those eyes clearly—clear brown, identical to Noelle's.
"He's a good boy. Went right to sleep after his bottle."
"Thank you for this."
"I enjoy taking care of him."
The harmony of their scene together stabbed at my eyes. Rage boiled in my chest, my fingertips unconsciously moving to the gun at my waist.
I wanted to charge in.
I wanted to demand answers.
I wanted to—
Just as impulse peaked, memory crashed down like ice water—Noelle bound and wounded, those dead eyes looking at me saying, "Kholod, I wish you burn in hell forever."
"Kholod, I wish you burn in hell forever."
My hand slowly dropped from the gun. What right did I have to be angry? I had pushed her away with my own hands, driven her off in the most brutal way possible. This scene was nothing but the consequence of my own actions.
After the rage died, only bone-deep cold remained. I stepped back, silently watching that warm picture.
That figure who once belonged to me, that family that would never be mine.
I had lost her forever.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Noelle
"Tara, those two guys are back."
Shahruk from the grocery store next door poked his head in, worry etched across his weathered face. He was a local, his words thick with accent.
I looked up and, sure enough, there were the same two thugs from last week standing by my door, cigarettes dangling from their lips as they surveyed my shop with obvious malice.
