Page 73 of Forbidden Deception

The door to my right slides open, and I jump out of the SUV, then take a deep breath. The stench of rundown buildings and spilled oil fills the air, and I grimace.

My hands ball at my sides.

It’s okay. Medora won’t harm me like that. I saved her. Us. She wouldn’t put me in danger. She reached out because she wanted to protect us.

I scan the area. A few homeless people grumble in a corner sleeping on discarded bags and some in sleeping bags, and the faint smell of weed makes its way around me, skunky haze and drenched with citrus mixed with wet diesel in this foggy alleyway.

Inky night above me makes it hard to see past the silhouettes of run-down buildings, but I manoeuvre through them with careful steps. I am careful to avoid dirty puddles and the random objects scattered on the pavement.

The icy breeze raises goosebumps on my skin, and I rub my arms to get rid of them, then walk down the footpath until I see a broken open sign hanging off the side of a rundown restaurant.

I take the right turn leading into another alley. The sight that meets me makes me halt in my steps.

“Is everything okay?” A voice crackles in my ear.

“Hm,” I quietly mutter, then carefully tiptoe past two men sleeping against the wall.

As soon as I pass them, I do a quick little run until I spot a small, chipped red wooden door.

“I’m here,” I whisper, looking around.

I knock on the door.

Hurry up. Please, hurry up.

The metal gate behind me at the front of the alleyway squeaks every few seconds from the strong night wind.

It’s such a shitty place.

I hate it.

A latch turns.

I look back at the two men who start to stir from the sound.

The lock turns.

The one with a straggly beard and unkempt, long hair sits up with a groan.

Hurry.

The man looks around and spots me. My heart thunders.

“Hey—” I am pulled through the door, and it bangs shut behind me.

“What the f—”

A hand slams over my mouth.

Wide, frantic eyes meet mine. The woman’s black hair is tightly tied into a ponytail, and her sharp features are pinched.

“Medora,” I whisper, my heart racing, and I throw myself into her arms. I tighten my arms around her. Her warmth is so familiar. It was the only place I found comfort in when I had noone. Medora was that friend for me who didn’t judge me for the murder and instead tried to protect me.

She was my rock and anchor through it all. She never let me drown at that cursed school.

“Venezia.” She gently pulls away, her eyes now calm. She looks me over as if to make sure I am doing okay, and once she confirms it, she smiles.

“I’m glad you’re okay and your brother is treating you well.” Of course she would be worried. My parents had given me up. So had hers.

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