Page 164 of The Colour of Revenge

Thericharomaofcoffee wraps around me as I stand at the Starbucks counter, waiting for my hot chocolate. It might be spring, but chocolate and milk are a perfect pair year-round.

I shift on my feet, a strange prickle of awareness creeping up my spine. It’s subtle but unmistakable—like someone is watching me.

“Naomi?”

The name slices through me like a blade. My breath catches. My muscles coil, ready to bolt. No one calls me that anymore. No one should.

It has to be a coincidence.

Still, against my better judgment, I turn slightly—just enough to catch a glimpse of the speaker.

And then time stops.

Tess.

Her wide green eyes lock onto mine, disbelief melting into something warmer, brighter. A smile—a genuine, beaming, overjoyed smile—breaks across her face.

“Oh my god, it is you!”

I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Tess.

“Tess,” I smile back at the face of my old best friend. We grew up playing together every day. I’d go to her house whenever I wanted a reprieve from my father’s control.

She looks older, obviously—I was thirteen the last time I saw her. Her once-ginger hair is now dyed a deep auburn. But her face is still recognisable, even after all these years: the same light green eyes, the same freckles scattered across her skin.

Memories flood in, vivid and unbidden. Running through the playground, breathless with laughter. Curling up on her bed, whispering secrets. Stealing extra cookies from her mum’s kitchen. I feel thirteen again for a moment—back when I had a friend. Back when my childhood wasn’t just darkness and survival.

I haven’t thought about the before in so long. It’s like it’s a completely different life. But also… it’s mine.

And Tess is here. Her face so happy to see me. “It is you!”

I nod, swallowing back my emotions. “Yeah. Hey. Although I go by Carina now.” Might as well tell her straight away, because I really don’t want to hear my old name again.

“Oh! Cool!” She doesn’t even bat an eyelid and I’m reminded of why I loved her.

I’d almost forgotten that I actually enjoyed my childhood once upon a time. That I had friends who might have missed me after I went missing. It’s like I blocked it all from my mind and now the dam bursts and I feel awful that I never reached out after my escape.

Nate clears his throat, confusion, and amusement present in his expression when I look at him. He’s holding my hot chocolate; I hadn’t even heard them call my name.

I clear my throat. “Right. Tess this is my boyfriend, Nate,” I motion my head towards him, “Nate, this is Tess. She was my best friend growing up.”

His eyes soften on me while Tess stares at him in awe. “Don’t you own Haven?” she says and it’s Nate’s turn to stiffen.

“Uh,” he scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably, “yeah. How did you know?”

“One of my colleagues goes to your support groups. She always gushes about how useful they are.”

Nate beams. “That’s really good to hear.”

“Oh my god, I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity. Seriously, you’re like the guy for all things good in this city. My colleague—Emma, you probably know her—says you changed her life. Like, she never stops talking about the group and how it’s the only reason she’s managing to stay sober after what her ex put her through. And now you’re just… here. In Starbucks. With Carina, of all people!”

She turns back to me, her eyes wide with excitement. “I mean, Carina! I can’t believe it. I thought I’d never see you again. It was all over the news! Did someone kidnap you? That is so wild. And then your return? Wait! What happened to the fiancé that you were with in the news? Oh, Lord! Is this an affair?"

I open my mouth to respond, but she’s already barrelling forward. “You look amazing, by the way. Like, wow. And what’s with the name change? Not that I blame you—Naomi was cute, but Carina? So elegant. Did you reinvent yourself or something? Are you in witness protection? Wait, don’t answer that! I don’t want to get you in trouble. Oh my god, is this guy your handler?!”

Nate chokes on his sip of coffee, and I can’t help but laugh despite myself. “No, Tess. He’s not my handler.”

“Oh, good. Because I was about to say, hot handler alert! Anyway, are you in the city now? Oh, we have to catch up properly. Do you have Instagram? Wait, do you even use social media? Remember when we tried to make Myspace profiles, and you gave up halfway through because it was too much effort? God, that feels like a lifetime ago.”