Erisia shot her a look over the rim of her cup. "You can't say that while your curls are trying to rebel against gravity."
Shane listened silently, his expression unreadable as their banter bounced back and forth. Every now and then, his gaze lingered on Erisia, though he said nothing.
After eating, they lingered for a while—Rita scrolling through her photos, Shane checking a few emails, and Erisia quietly sipping the last of her latte, watching the world move outside.
When they finally got up to leave, the late morning light had grown brighter, spilling through the café windows in wide golden streaks. Shane paid the bill despite Rita's half-hearted protests, and they headed back to the car.
The drive to the apartment was calm. The streets of Brooklyn were fully awake now—kids riding scooters, a dog walker wrestling with three overexcited golden retrievers, and someone blasting music from an open window.
