Chapter 82

The familiar smell of grilled barbecue stung my nose. The noise in the restaurant was never changing. Customers still ranted about their orders, and servers hurried their way to please.

“You mean you can’t remember those group of chatterboxes who sat down at that table two weeks ago?” I asked the waiter, already frustrated.

“No Ma’am. It's impossible to remember the customers we have here in a day because we are highly patronised,” he bragged. “Not to talk of the ones from weeks ago,” he shook his head sympathetically.

“They were like four of them,” I continued adamantly. “Three elderly men and one woman,” I searched the waiter's eyes, waiting for a positive reply.

He shook his head. “Nope... nothing Ma’am. I am so sorry,” he picked up his iced drink and resumed his duty.

“Let it go, Ella,” Nico sounded drained.

“Let it go?” I shouted, and then realised I might have drawn attention to us. “Let it go?” I repeated in a calm voice. “Why would you say that? You know how much this means