Chapter 36: Dahlia

Sienna insisted on driving, which meant we got there fifteen minutes early and spent twelve of them in the car while she touched up her lip liner and told me I needed to look like I knew what I was doing.

“I do know what I’m doing,” I said.

“You know what I mean.”

I did know what she meant. I smoothed my jacket and got out.

The restaurant was the kind of place that had no prices on the lunch menu, which told you everything you needed to know about the clientele.

Eloise Bennington was a