Martha led them to a cozy corner café tucked near the edge of the mall's top floor… the kind with soft lighting, quiet jazz, and velvet chairs that begged you to stay too long.
Hannah slid into the booth first, then Jean, and Martha settled beside her like a queen returning to her throne.
A waiter appeared.
"Three lavender lattes, one chocolate croissant, and… give us all the whipped cream you have," Martha said.
Jean blinked. "You've memorized my order? Did you see one of my interviews?"
Martha raised an elegant brow. "Darling, I've memorized your wardrobe, your walking speed, and which side of the bed you curl up on when you're cold. I'm terrifyingly observant."
She's kidding right?
Hannah giggled, pulling out her phone beneath the table. Quietly, she typed out a message and hit send.
'Logan, café on Level 3 near the glass elevators. Jean had a rough moment. Just in case…'
