C28 Do You Still Want to Live?

I didn't recognize the voice, and since we were in Dahlia's territory, I instinctively glanced her way. Her face was ashen, the chopsticks frozen at her lips.

A gust of wind heralded a blur of crimson at the door, which quickly retreated and then charged into the restaurant. My danger instincts, honed in prison, kicked in. As the figure barreled toward Dahlia