Previous Chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
Isla’s Point of View
Stay grounded.
I had to stay grounded.
The forensic accountant had returned like an ill wind.
The first thing I did was pick up Carla.
She was inside the Taverna, which was filling up with the lunchtime crowd — forks scraping across ceramic, someone laughing by the window, the warm haze of garlic and olive oil thickening the air from the kitchen. Among them, I saw a few tourists.
I worried about the tourists, not because they were disruptive, far from it, but because I feared that a place so socially necessary as the taverna might be squeezed full of visitors until there was no room for locals.