Hours later, after Robert and Florence’s owners finally returned home, Dalila grabbed her dark brown coat from the hook behind the door and headed outside.
The freezing New York air hit her immediately.
Sharp.
Biting.
Her curls whipped violently against her cheeks while cold wind stung her skin.
Shivering, she pulled her coat collar higher around her neck and shoved her hands into her pockets.
She still wasn’t fully used to winter.
Though honestly?
She preferred this over Rio’s suffocating heat.
And cold weather gave her an excuse to dress dramatically, so she considered that a personal victory.
Dalila slipped her headphones on, climbed onto her bike parked beside the curb, and started riding home through the city streets.
As she pedaled through Manhattan, Cristina’s words repla
