William, Latecia, and Milagros had decided to start with breakfast before diving into everything that had happened—more importantly, what they were supposed to do about it now.
The café they'd ducked into was small, tucked on a rainy street corner. It smelled of sizzling bacon, warm bread, and strong coffee. Outside, the downpour drummed against the windows, smoothing the city's noise into a low hum. Their orders had already been placed, and the waiting gave them just enough excuse to talk.
Latecia leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest, eyes narrowing at William.
