The second day of the visit dawned bright and cool, the kind of clear autumn morning that made Willow Creek look like a postcard. Elias and I were up early, moving quietly around the kitchen to prepare a big breakfast spread — pancakes, fresh fruit, scrambled eggs, and the coffee Noah had mentioned liking strong. We wanted the day to feel welcoming, not forced.
Amina and Noah arrived at the house around nine-thirty. Noah carried a small paper bag and looked more relaxed than the day before. “I brought bagels from the bakery near the train station,” he said, setting them on the table. “Amina said they’re your favorite, Zara. And I got some local honey for the pancakes.”
Elias shook his hand again, this time with a genuine smile. “You’re going to spoil us. Thank you.”
Breakfast on the por
