The Café Meeting

Chloe stepped out of the hotel, the sky was bruised with the last shadows of night, the streetlamps still burning with a faint, dying light. She wore a long beige trench coat that brushed her calves and a pair of sunglasses far too dark for the hour. Her heart was beating so fast as she walked, she slowed down, calm and unhurried.

She already knew where she was going.

The café was ten minutes away by car, maybe fifteen on foot. She preferred to walk.

She replayed ...