Chapter 1

Sloane closed her phone and set it face-down in front of her as a sense of dread slowly advanced through her limbs. She peered down to the other end of the vast marble bar where two employees spoke to each other quietly while the bartender started preparing her drink in the warm, dim light.

She tensed as a sharp cold breeze cut up her nylons; her ankle and up to her knee before her jacket offered proper protection from the freeze. Her remaining token of courage was rewarded with a welcome sight as two unfamiliar figures shuffled through the door, pressed together for warmth. But relief was fleeting, as her anxiety grew with each passing moment.

She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, focusing on methodical racket from behind the bar and the indistinguishable soft murmur from her few fellow patrons dispersed throughout the lounge.

‘You’re running out of time’, a voice sounded in her head. ‘Leave. Leave, or swallow your nerves and sit up straight. Now. Decide. You’re running out of t–’

She jumped at the dense slap of the marble bar before her.

“Your Negroni, miss,” the bartender cut in. “Keep it open?”

‘Decide,’ the voice repeated

“I’ll…uhhhh…” Sloane stammered as she felt blood rushing to her cheeks. The bartender raised his eyebrows to extract a decision. “Yeah, just…close it, please. Just close it. Thank you.”

“You got it,” he responded. The littlest sliver of condescension in his tone encouraged further tension through her body.

‘So we’re going? Then leave. Now.’

She lifted the glass to her lip and took a slow sip. Her eyes were drawn to the red streak left behind on the rim.

‘Which is it? You can’t have this drink and leave, too. You’re running out of time.’

She picked her phone up and swiped to the front camera. She slowly moved her head to observe her face from various angles. The dim light of the bar made the exercise difficult–she hoped she looked as she appeared in her bathroom mirror at home. Tilting into the best light available in her seat, she observed her red matte lips which appeared extra rich against her fair skin, made paler by the short December days. Her red, wavy locks bounced and shone as she gave her head a quick shake. Finally, she side-eyed each side of her face for a final check of her winged eyeliner which, while certainly thicker than her own preferences, she couldn’t help but notice how well they highlighted her bright blue eyes.

She took another deep breath and reached for her glass.

‘It’s exactly as they asked.’