Ivy
The aroma of fresh coffee and pastries enveloped me as I entered the bustling café. My eyes darted around the cozy room, scanning faces until they landed on a familiar blonde at a table by the window.
Lila.
My heart skipped, and I wove through the tables. Eight years had passed, but she looked nearly the same—bright green eyes, radiant smile, hair tumbling over her shoulders in waves.
I slid into the seat across from her, pulse racing. "Hi, Lila."
Her eyes lit up. "Ivy! Oh my gosh, it's so great to see you." She leaned forward, brows knitting with concern. "Are you okay? You look really nervous," she chirped.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I twisted a napkin in my hands, shredding it into confetti. "It's just been a long time."
Understatement of the century. The last time I'd seen Lila, I'd had two normal parents, lived in a normal house, and my biggest worry had been passing math.
Now, I was tangled up with the mafia.
