Cry , Even better if you , beg

Mrs. Etman froze and glared at Leyla before walking to the chair and sitting on it. She straightened her posture and put her hat on the other chair.

Different nuances presented by Mrs. Etman when she saw her today left Leyla feeling uneasy.

"You've probably just returned from the police station." Mrs. Etman spoke first, "How's the investigation going on?"

"They haven't found any clues yet," Leyla said. "But it's not over yet, so I don't want to give up."

"Well, Leyla. I don't think it is a wise choice."

"Pardon?"

Taken aback, Leyla asked once again when the tea she had ordered came. An awkward silence prevailed between the two until the waiter left after carelessly dropping the cup on the table.

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt

"May I ask what you mean, Ma'am?"

Leyla breached the stillness first.

"Your money, I have it."

Mrs. Etman uttered those without a trace of guilt; her sight dipped to the clouded boiling steam of the teacup.