You Can Run But...
The owner had swallowed the lie hook, line, and sinker and welcomed her so warmly, offering coffee and doughnuts, which she rejected because she couldn't stomach anything.
The few dollars she had fished out of a goon's pocket as she escaped the restaurant, she had spent on a hoodie, a black jogger, and sneakers.
black enough to shield her when she walked out of the motel during the nights in search of what she could eat, making do with leftovers from cafes and, one time, stealing a bunch of bananas from a fruit shop at the side of the road.
Ignoring the curses and oranges thrown at her by the angry vendor, Gia had found a safe spot behind a deserted hair salon and eaten the whole thing—well,