The coffee shop smelled of roasted beans and steamed milk, a sharp contrast to the sterile scent of the hospital or the quiet dust of the archive room where she often wrote. Bella sat in a corner booth, her hands wrapped around a mug that was too hot. She had arrived twenty minutes early. Habit. She used to arrive early for meetings with Marcus, ensuring everything was perfect before he arrived. Now, she was waiting for David.
When he walked in, he didn't scan the room like a reporter looking for a scoop. He looked like a man looking for a friend. He wore a worn leather jacket and carried a book under his arm. He spotted her and smiled, a genuine expression that reached the corners of his eyes.
"Sorry I'm late," David said, sliding into the booth. "Traffic on the 5."
"I'm early," Bella
